r- 


7 


COLIN   KEPT  ALONGSIDE   FOR  SOME   TIME   ON    LEVEL   ROAD.' 


TO 

GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE 

A  STORY  OF 
ADVENTUEE   IN  THE  AKCTIC  REGIONS 


BY 


GORDON  JTABLES,  M.D,  C.M. 

(Surgeon  Royal  Navy) 
Author  of  "  'T  wixt  School  and  College  ",  "  Westward  with  Columbus  ",  &c. 


WITH  EIGHT  FULL-PAGE  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  Q.  C.  BINDLEY 
AND  A  MAP 


LONDON 

BLACK1E   &   SON,  LIMITED,  50   OLD  BAILEY,  E.G. 
GLASGOW  AND  DUBLIN 

1895 


</  — 


82, 


TO 

FKIDJOF    NANSEN 
(THE  BRAVEST  OF  ARCTIC  EXPLORERS) 

THIS  BOOK  IS  DEDICATED 

WITH 
WISHES  AND   PRATERS   FOR   HIS   SAFE  RETURN 

BY 
THE   AUTHOR 


PEEFACE. 


Prefaces,  like  dentists,  are  sometimes  necessary  evils,  and 
we  have  to  bear  with  them,  putting  the  best  face  on  the 
matter  that  we  possibly  can.  Now,  in  this  preface  I  want 
only  to  tell  you  that,  though  in  some  parts  sadness  and 
grief  creep  into  the  pages  of  this  book — towards  the  end, 
for  this  was  inevitable — on  the  whole,  you  will  find  little 
else  save  joy  and  jollity  throughout.  Nansen,  the  brave 
Arctic  explorer — whom  may  God  bring  back  from  his  daring 
venture — you  will  have  no  difficulty  in  recognizing  as  the 
prototype  of  my  chief  hero  Reynolds.  Rudland  Syme  is  a 
Greenland  surgeon  sketched  from  life;  Sigurd  was  also  a 
real  live  sailor,  and  may  be  so  still,  for  aught  I  know;  while 
as  for  honest  Joe  the  mate,  he  was  a  shipmate  of  my  own 
during  my  first  Arctic  cruise,  and  a  hearty  happy-go-lucky 
fellow  he  was.  We  roughed  it  together  years  and  years  ago, 
in  and  on  the  Sea  of  Ice,  in  a  way  few  are  called  upon  to  do 
nowadays.  Let  me  say,  further,  that  the  description  of  the 
ice  and  ice  adventures  are  mostly  taken  from  journals  of  my 
own.  But  I  must  acknowledge  my  indebtedness  to  the 
First  Crossing  of  Greenland  (Nansen),  published  by  Messrs. 
Longmans,  Green,  &  Co.,  for  my  ideas  on  "skilobning",  or 
snow-shoe  travelling  as  carried  out  in  Norway.  I  have  not 
followed  Nansen's  route  across  the  inland  ice,  however,  for 
being  a  month  earlier  in  the  season  I  have  taken  my  people 
farther  north,  and  brought  them  out  at  Disko  Bay. 

GORDON   STABLES. 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK  I. 

IN  SNOW-CLAD  WILDS. 

CHAP.  Page 

I.  A  STRING  OF  MOUNTAIN  TROUT, 11 

II.  CAPTAIN  JUNK  OF  THE  "BLUE  PETER", 22 

III.  A  LAD  FROM  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MIDNIGHT  SUN,      .     .  30 

IV.  IN  BONNIE  GLEN  MOIRA, 41 

Y.  A  FALL  OVER  A  CLIFF, 53 

VI.  A  WILD  JOURNEY, 63 

VII.  THE  SMUGGLERS'  CAVE — PRISONERS  IN  THE  FOREST — 

AT  SEA  IN  A  STORM, 75 

VIII.  NORWEGIAN  FJORDS  IN  WINTER — BIRDS!  BIRDS!  BIRDS!   88 
IX.  FACE  TO  FACE  WITH   A  BEAR — ADVENTURES  ON   THE 

SNOW-CLAD  WILDS — TORN  TO  PIECES  BY  WOLVES,    .  99 

X.  AMONG  THE  WANDERING  LAPPS — THE  COMING  OF  SUMMER,  112 

BOOK  II. 
ON  GEEENLAND'S  ICY  MOUNTAINS. 

I.  NORTH  AND  AWAY  TO  THE  SEA  OF  ICE, 120 

II.  OLAF'S  FIRST  BEAR — AN  INK-BLACK  OCEAN — SEALS  IN 

THEIR  MILLIONS, 134 

III.  "THE  IVORY  GULL  HAS  FLOWN  AWAY*' "ALL  IS  FAIR 

IN  LOVE  AND   SEALING", 148 

IV.  STILL  AMONG  THE  ICE — A  STRANGE,  WILD  SCHEME,  .     .  161 
V.  OUR  WOULD-BE  EXPLORER  is  SAID  TO  BE  MAD — FINDS 

A  FRIEND  AT  LAST, 171 

VI.  BATTLING  WITH  THE  FLOES  AND  THE  CURRENT,    .     .     .179 
VII.   "FOR  GOD  HAS  GIVEN  MAN  DOMINION  OVER  EVEN  THE 

WAVES" — A  NIGHT  OF  TERROR, 190 


Vlil  CONTENTS 

CHAP.  Page 

VIII.    SVOLTO  AND  HIS  HlLL-FIEND — A  QUEER  RACE  OF  SAVAGES,  201 

IX.  THE  DISMAL  PRAIRIE  OF  VIRGIN  SNOW, 215 

X.  STARTLING   ADVENTURES  —  THE   BLIZZARD  —  REYNOLDS 

SPEAKS   OF   CROSSING   THE    POLE, 224 

XI.     "WE   WILL   STAND   OR   FALL   TOGETHER" THE   WESTERN 

SEA — "So  GOD  BROUGHT  YOU  BACK", 234 

BOOK  III. 
AT  THE  NORTH   POLE. 

I.  FITTING  OUT  FOR  THE  POLE — THE  "FEAR  NOT",     .     .  241 

II.  AT  THE  MERCY  OF  GOD, 251 

III.  THE  DOGS  ON  BOARD — CROSSING  A  DREADED  BAR,  .     .  262 

IV.  "DEAD  NATURE  IN  HER  WINDING-SHEET," 273 

V.  THE  GREAT  ICE  PALACE, 284 

VI.  THE  BLACK  DEATH, 295 

VII.  THE  SEA  OF  CHAOS — AT  THE  POLE  ITSELF — GOD  SAVE 

THE  QUEEN  ! 306 

VIII.  SAD  DEATH  OF  LORD  DAYBREAK — STRANGE  AND  FEAR- 
FUL ADVENTURES, 313 

IX.  THE  "FEAR  NOT"  SEEMS  DOOMED, 321 

X.  A   LONESOME   GRAVE — SVOLTO'S   DOOM — THE   AWFUL 

STORM — THE  BARQUE  GOES  DOWN, 329 

XI.  DEATH   OF   LAKOFF   AND   CHAUSS — POOR    HENRY! — A 

TERRIBLE  JOURNEY — "THE  ICE  WAS  OPENING".  .     .  336 
XII.  THE  END  OF  ALL, 343 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Page 
" COLIN  KEPT  ALONGSIDE  FOR  SOME  TIME  ON  LEVEL  ROAD,"  Front.   61 


"EVERY  TIME  HE  RAISED  HIS  UGLY  SNOUT  'FlSS'  CRIED  THE  CAT,    24 

"IT  SEEMED  THAT  THE  'VlKING*  WAS  RUNNING  STRAIGHT  TO 
DESTRUCTION," 93 

"EMITTING  A  CHOKING  BELLOW  THE  BEAR  TUMBLED  ON  HIS 
SIDE," 142 

"THE  MEN  SUCCEEDED  IN  CUTTING  A  CANAL  FROM  THE  SHIP 
TO  THE  WATER," 170 

"IT  WAS  A  WEARY  DRAG  WITH  CANADIAN  SNOW-SHOES  ON,"  228 
LAKOFF  HAS  A  TALK  WITH  HIS  FRIEND  CHAUSS,  ....  266 
THE  DOCTOR  HAS  BAD  NEWS  TO  TELL, 324 


NORTH     CIRCUMPOLAR    REGIONS 


TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE 


Route  of  the  Fear  Nought;  

Where  theuFearNougM' took  the.  vce> 


BLACKIE    A:  SOK 


GLASGOW  &  EDINBUH.C-I 


TO  GKEENLAND  AND  THE  POLE 


BOOK    I. 
IN    SNOW-CLAD    WILDS. 

CHAPTER  L 

A  STRING  OF  MOUNTAIN  TROUT. 

LOVELY  night  in  autumn. 

And  surely  no  town  in  all  the  world  is  seen  to 
greater  advantage,  under  the  light  of  a  full  moon, 
than  the  far-famed  Granite  City — Aberdeen. 

In  this  particular  evening — or,  is  it  not  rather  morning  ? 
for  solemnly  in  the  still  air,  the  clocks  in  the  steeples  have 
long  since  boomed  forth  the  midnight  hour — every  house 
in  mile-long  Union  Street  stands  out  like  a  palace  built  of 
marble,  or  of  frosted  silver,  while  the  rows  of  lamps,  that 
stretch  from  end  to  end  and  have  not  yet  been  extinguished, 
look  like  two  chains  of  gold. 

It  is  indeed  a  lovely  night ! 

Two  great  cannons,  captured  at  Sebastopol,  stand  in 
Castle-gate,  near  to  the  old  romantic  cross,  and  point 
threateningly  adown  the  splendid  snow-white  thoroughfare. 
But  never  more  will  their  thunders  be  heard.  The  life  is 
as  clean  gone  from  those  obsolete  guns  as  from  the  brave 
men  who  defended  them  and  fell  by  their  side. 

But  sitting  astride  of  one  of  them,  and  apparently  lost  in 
thought,  is  Colin  M'lvor. l 

i  Pronounced  MacEevor. 


12          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

Only  a  boy  is  Colin,  though,  being  fifteen,  he  deems  himself 
a  man.  Almost  a  man  in  stature,  indeed,  he  is.  The  moon- 
beams are  shining  on  his  handsome  brown  face.  The  night- 
breeze  is  toying  with  his  rebellious  yellow  hair,  and,  though 
there  is  a  far-away  dreamy  kind  of  look  in  his  eyes,  as  he  gazes 
along  the  silent  street,  there  is  a  smile  hovering  round  his  lips. 

Across  his  back  diagonally  is  hung  a  large  botanical  case, 
and  he  holds  in  one  hand,  pointed  like  a  spear  towards  the 
starry  sky,  a  fishing-rod  in  its  canvas  case. 

Colin  is  at  present  deep  in  thought,  so  deep,  indeed,  that 
he  does  not  hear  the  footsteps  of  a  night  policeman  who  is 
approaching  from  behind.  This  sturdy  fellow  appears  to  be 
somewhat  startled  at  Colin's  strange  apparition,  for  several 
times  as  he  advances  he  bends  low  toward  the  ground,  to 
bring  the  boy  between  him  and  the  moonlit  sky,  so  as  to 
make  sure  his  eyes  do  not  deceive  him. 

"Ahem!     Hem!" 

Colin  looks  slowly  round. 

"  Weel,  my  bonnie  birkie,  that's  a  funny  horse  ye  ride  at 
this  untimeous  hoor  o'  nicht.  But  it  will  be  a  lang  time 
afore  he  gallops  hame  wi'  ye.  Would  ye  no  be  better  in 
your  bed,  my  mannie?" 

Colin  burst  into  a  right  merry  laugh. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  it  must  seem  funny  to  you,  seeing  me 
astride  of  this  old  black  nag,  without  saddle,  bridle,  or  bit. 
But,  bless  you,  Bobby,  this  is  nothing  to  the  droll  things  I 
do  at  times." 

"Nay,  nay?"  said  the  policeman  inquiringly. 

"No,  nothing." 

"But  winna  your  father  and  mother  think  you've  tint1 
yourself?" 

"0,  Bobby,  I  have  no  father  and  no  mother.  Father 
was  killed  long,  long  ago  in  the  Crimean  War — he  might 
have  fallen  beneath  this  very  gun — and  poor  mother  wore 
away  last  year." 

The  policeman  was  visibly  softened.  He  had  a  big  lump 
of  a  heart  of  his  own.  Even  a  policeman  may  possess  a 
heart,  you  know, 

lLost. 


A  STRING  OF  MOUNTAIN  TROUT.  13 

"Poor  orphan  bairn!"  he  said,  drawing  his  rough  coat 
sleeve  across  his  eyes.  "But  ye  have  somebody  that 
belangs  to  ye?" 

"  I  have  an  aunt  in  the  city,  Bobby." 

"And  the  puir  auld  thing  will  be  worry  in'  about  ye. 
Better  rin  hame,  laddie,  better  rin  aff  hame." 

"0  no,  I  sha'n't.  You  see,  it's  like  this,  Bobby ;  I  live  with 
my  uncle 

'  Far  lone  amang  the  Hielan'  hills', 

and  he  lets  me  do  as  I  like.  As  a  rule,  Bobby,  everybody 
lets  me  do  as  I  like.  Well,  this  morning  early,  Flesher 
Coutts  drove  me  all  the  way  to  Ben-a-Chie — and  his  mare 
can  go,  too,  Bobby :  you  should  just  see  her.  Sixteen  miles 
an  hour.  0,  it  was  lovely !  Well,  you  see,  I  had  plenty  of 
food  in  my  case,  so  I  wandered  about  and  fished  in  the 
burns  all  day,  and  at  darkling  I  started  for  the  city  here." 

"And  you've  walked  a'  the  road  your  leefu'  lane,1  puir 
bairn  1  But  f u 2  do  ye  no  gang  stracht  hame  to  your  bit 
auntie?" 

"  0,  she  doesn't  expect  me.  If  I  had  gotten  here  sooner 
I  should  have  gone  to  her.  But,  0,  Bobby,  at  this  dreary 
hour,  I  should  scare  her  life  out,  and  the  life  out  of  all  the 
servants  as  well." 

"But,  my  conscience,  laddie,  ye  canna  sit  stride-legs  on 
that  auld  rattler  o'  a  gun  a'  the  live-lang  nicht." 

"Bobby,  you  mustn't  call  it  an  old  rattler  of  a  gun. 
Mind  you,  this  gun  has  seen  service.  Bold  Kussian  soldiers 
fought  for  its  possession  and  dropped  dead  beside  it,  under 
the  clash  and  rush  of  our  Highland  claymores.  If  you  bend 
down  you  can  see  even  yet  blood  splashes  on  the  carriage 
wheels  that  the  dark  paint  cannot  quite  cover.  And,  Bobby, 
my  father  belonged  to  the  Highland  brigade,  and  as  you  came 
up,  I  was  just  thinking  that  he  might  have  died  by  this 
gun.  It  was  a  glorious  fight !  How  I  wish  I  had  been  by 
father's  side,  pistol  in  hand  and  red  sword  waving  o'er  my 
head— 

"Wheesht!     Wheesht,  laddie!     Dinna  talk  o'  blood-red 

i  All  by  yourself.  2  why. 


14  TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

swords  at  sich  a  solemn  hoor  o'  nicht.  Hark!  Boom! 
Dinna  ye  hear  it?  One  o'clock.  Losh!  the  sound  made  my 
heart  jump.  And  now  I  maun  be  aff." 

But  Colin  said,  "  Wait  half  a  minute,  Bobby." 

Then  he  quickly  whirled  his  botanical  case  round  in  front 
of  him,  opened  it,  and  took  therefrom  a  handsome  string  of 
mountain  trout. 

"  Take  these  for  your  breakfast,  Bobby." 

"Weel,  laddie.  Mony,  mony  thanks;  but  how  can  I 
walk  about  a'  nicht  wi'  a  string  o'  trouts  in  ma  ban'  1  I'll  tell 
ye,  sir — " 

"My  name  is  Colin— Colin  M'lvor." 

"  I'll  tell  you,  Colin,  hoo  ye  can  add  to  the  obleedgement 
and  do  yoursel'  a  good  turn  at  the  same  time." 

"Well,  Bobby." 

"Well,  my  mither  is  sittin'  up  a'  nicht,  and  my  sister 
Katie,  waitin'  for  my  uncle.  He  is  comin'  wi'  the  Queen" 

"With  the  queen,  Bobby?" 

"  The  Queen  steamboat,  ye  ken." 

"0  yes,  I've  heard  of  her.  And  your  uncle  is  coming 
with  this  boat?" 

"That  he  is,  if  he  binna1  droond't.  And,  man,  laddie, 
he'll  be  fearfu'  hungry,  and  what  a  treat  they  troots  would 
be  to  him!" 

"Well?" 

"Weel,"  continued  the  policeman,  handing  Colin  an 
envelope  which  the  boy  read  by  the  light  of  the  moon, 
"  that  is  my  minney's  2  address.  Constitution  Street  isn't 
ten  minutes  walk  fae  here.  Get  aff  your  iron  horse — your 
warlike  steed — and  tak'  the  troots  to  her.  My  minney  and 
Katie  will  mak'  you  hearty  welcome,  and  you  can  curl  up 
there  a'  nicht.  Noo  I'm  aff.  Duty  is  duty." 

"And  I'm  off  too.     Good-night,  Bobby." 

Next  minute,  with  his  fishing-rod  at  the  trail  in  one  hand 
and  that  string  of  mountain  trout  in  the  other,  Colin 
M'lvor,  who  knew  the  city  well,  was  marching  off  en  route 
for  Constitution  Street. 

It  was  not  long  before  he  reached  the  place,  and  he  soon 

i Be  not.  another's 


A  STRING  OF  MOUNTAIN  TROUT.  15 

found  the  number.  A  pretty  little  granite-built  cottage 
with  a  trim  garden  in  front  and  a  brass  knocker  with  which 
Colin  beat  a  merry  tattoo,  for  he  could  hear  voices  in  con- 
versation in  one  of  the  lower  rooms,  the  light  from  the 
window  of  which  streamed  out  across  the  flower-beds,  and 
tried  conclusions  with  the  moonbeams. 

There  was  instantaneous  silence,  then  Colin  could  hear 
someone  advancing  along  the  passage. 

"Fa's1  there?" 

"  It  is  only  me,"  replied  Colin. 

"And  fa  on  earth  are  ye?" 

"I'm  Colin  M'lvor  from  the  Highland  hills,  and  I've 
brought  a  string  of  mountain  trout  for  uncle's  supper  when 
he  comes  in  the  Queen  steamer." 

The  word  uncle  was  the  open  sesame. 

A  chain  rattled,  and  next  moment  the  moonbeams  shone 
brightly  on  the  cheerful  face  of  a  little  woman  in  black,  who 
wore  a  widow's  cap. 

"Come  in,  laddie,  come  in;  but  what  a  fright  ye  gave 
Katie  and  me!  Ye  see,  John  Jackson — that  is  my  young 
son — is  awa'  on  his  beat,  and  I  kent2  it  couldna  be 
him." 

Colin  laughed. 

"  O  yes,"  he  said,  "  I've  just  left  your  son  John." 

"  Jist  left  him;  and  fat  was  he  deeinT' 3 

"Doing?  Sitting  stride-legs  on  a  big  gun  in  Castle  Street 
and  thinking  about  his  father." 

The  little  widow  turned  her  palms  and  eyes  skywards. 

"  0,  my  puir  son  John ! "  she  cried.  "  Stride-legs  on  a  gun ! 
My  John!  0,  Katie,  my  darlin',  come  here.  John  has 
gane  fey."4 

Colin  had  expected  to  see  in  Katie  a  tall  young  lady 
about  John's  own  build.  Instead,  she  was  but  a  fragile,  fairy- 
looking  thing  of  some  twelve  summers,  with  big  wondering 
eyes,  and  long  hair  floating  over  her  shoulders. 

Colin  now  made  haste  to  explain  that  it  was  he  himself, 

i  Who  is.  a  Knew.  »  Doing. 

*  A  peculiar  kind  of  madness  said  to  attack  people  who  are  soon  to  die  sud 
denly. 


16          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

and  not  John,  who  was  astride  of  the  gun,  and  that  John 
merely  stood  beside  it,  listening  to  his  (Colin's)  chatter. 

The  boy  with  his  string  of  mountain  trout  was  now 
ushered  "ben"  the  house  into  one  of  the  cosiest  wee  parlours 
ever  he  had  seen. 

A  cheerful  fire  burned  clear  and  bright  in  the  grate;  a 
kettle  sang  on  the  hob;  on  a  footstool  a  monster  tabby  cat 
sat  singing  and  nodding,  and  on  the  hearth-rug  near  lay  a 
lovely  collie  dog,  who  got  up,  and  with  his  tail  wagged  Colin 
M'lvor  a  hearty  welcome. 

Colin  threw  himself  down  on  the  rug  beside  the  dog,  quite 
free-and-easy  fashion,  and  then  proceeded  to  explain  the 
reason  of  his  coming  here  at  all. 

"Weel,"  said  the  widow,  "onybody  that  my  son  John 
sends  here  is  just  as  welcome  as  the  gowans1  in  May.  My 
son  John  is  a  simple  sumph,2  and  mair  fitted  for  a  ploughboy 
than  a  policeman;  but  since  his  poor  father's  death  we  have 
a'  had  a  doon-come." 

"I'm  so  sorry  .to  hear  it." 

"  Farmer  folks  we  were,  ye  know  " — the  little  widow  was 
doing  her  best  to  talk  English  now — "  farmer  folks  from  far 
ayont  the  Buck  o'  Cabrach." 

"  Why,"  cried  Colin,  "  my  uncle  doesn't  live  a  hundred 
miles  from  there." 

"And  John,  he  held  the  plough ;  and  there  wasna  a  bonnier, 
or  more  smilin'-looking  farm  than  ours  in  all  the  kintra 
side.  But  woe  is  me!  the  bad  years  came;  the  wild  snowy 
springs;  the  frost  that  cut  the  briard;3  the  wet,  cruel  har- 
vests ;  and  the  foot-and-mouth  disease.  Then  ruin  stared  us 
in  the  face.  John,  my  husband,  bore  it  well  and  bravely, 
but  I  could  see  that  the  frosts  o'  affliction  were  cutting  him 
down,  as  the  frosts  o'  spring  had  cut  the  briard.  He  grew 
bent  and  frail  and  weak,  and  in  the  fa'  o'  the  year  he  wore 
awa'  to  his  lang  hame  in  the  mools.  Heigh-ho !  heigh-ho ! " 

The  widow  hastily  dried  the  tears  that  had  begun  to  fall. 

"  But,"  she  cried,  smiling  once  more,  "  it  is  wrang,  wrang 
o'  me  to  talk  about  myself,  and,  laddie,  ye  must  forgive  me." 

"Yes,  certainly." 

1  Mountain  daisies.  2  A  simple  fellow.  s  The  spring  corn. 

(988) 


A  STRING  OF  MOUNTAIN   TROUT.  17 

Colin  had  risen  now  and  pulled  his  Highland  bonnet  from 
his  pocket. 

"What!"  said  the  widow;  "you're  no  surely  goin'  awa'. 
Na,  na,  laddie,  here  ye  roost  till  mornin'." 

"Mother,"  said  Colin,  a  merry  laugh  lighting  up  his  face, 
"everybody  lets  me  do  just  as  I  please,  and  so  must  you. 
I'm  not  going  away  for  good.  I'll  be  back  in  an  hour.  Only 
I  promised  myself  a  look  at  the  sea.  I'm  very  fond  of  the 
sea,  and  I  believe  I  am  going  to  be  a  sailor.  But  on  a  lovely 
night  like  this  I  would  not  miss  seeing  the  waves  for  a  great 
deal.  Bye,  bye;  111  soon  be  back,  and  if  I  hear  anything  of 
the  steamer  I  will  run  all  the  way  here  to  tell  you,  and  then 
Katie  can  cook  the  string  of  mountain  trout  for  uncle's  sup- 
per. Bye,  bye,  Katie." 

And  out  into  the  moonlight  once  more  went  Colin 
M'lvor. 

The  Broad  Hill  is  an  eminence  which  separates  the  Old 
Town  links  from  the  New  Town  links,  and  it  was  thither 
the  lad  now  bent  his  steps. 

He  shortly  reached  it,  and  quickly  climbed  to  the  top  and 
threw  himself  on  one  of  the  benches,  pulling  up  his  legs,  the 
better  to  rest,  for,  young  and  strong  though  he  was,  he  really 
felt  tired. 

How  brightly  the  moon  shone  over  the  sea!  The  waves 
sparkled  in  its  rays  like  molten  silver,  and  a  dreamy  haze 
was  cast  over  the  distant  lighthouse  and  the  pier-head,  that 
jutted  out  seawards  like  a  low,  stone-built  fort! 

There  was  scarcely  a  sound  to  be  heard,  except  the  mur- 
mur of  the  snow-white  lines  of  breakers  tumbling  in  upon 
the  sands.  But  now  and  then  the  weird  cry  of  a  sea-bird  fell 
upon  the  boy's  ears,  or  up  from  the  city  behind  him  might 
be  borne  the  song  of  some  belated  reveller  finding  his  way 
homewards. 

Colin  had  sat  on  the  bench  for  quite  a  long  time  and  was 
almost  asleep,  when  suddenly  he  started  up  as  wide-awake 
as  ever  he  had  been  in  his  life.  Had  he  heard  someone 
moaning  as  if  in  pain,  or  was  it  but  the  deception  of  a 
dream?  No,  it  was  no  dream.  For  there  it  was  again, 
pitiable,  painful,  prolonged. 

( 988 )  B 

M 


18          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

Colin,  like  all  mountaineers,  had  very  acute  hearing,  and  he 
now  followed  the  sounds  farther  up  and  across  the  broad  green 
hill.  And  soon  he  can  see  a  human  figure,  darkling  in  the 
moonlight,  stretched  beside  an  iron  bench. 

He  is  kneeling  beside  it  now. 

A  boy  about  his  own  age,  perhaps,  but  though  well-knit 
as  to  frame,  much  lighter  and  smaller.  There  is  a  ghastly 
wound  on  the  brow,  from  which  the  blood  has  been  welling, 
and  has  formed  a  dark  pool  near  to  the  bench. 

Colin  takes  the  hands  in  his  own  to  rub  and  to  chafe. 
They  are  very  small  hands,  and  are  deathly  cold.  He  gently 
raises  the  shoulders.  The  head  falls  back  like  that  of  a  dead 
bird. 

What  shall  Colin  do  1  For  a  time  he  is  puzzled,  perplexed. 
If  he  leaves  the  lad  here  he  will  soon  die. 

He  can  tell  by  his  dress  that  he  is  no  mere  street  boy. 
But  were  he  the  commonest  gutter-snipe  Colin  would  assist 
him.  Near  the  body  lies  a  broken  sextant  or  quadrant, 
Colin  cannot  tell  which.  The  boy  may  be  a  sailor. 

But  there  is  no  time  to  waste  in  foolish  conjectures.  What 
he  does,  he  must  do  quickly.  So  he  takes  out  his  handker- 
chief and  binds  it  across  the  unhappy  lad's  brow.  Then  he 
lifts  him  gently  up  in  his  arms,  as  one  carries  a  child. 

"Why,  how  light  he  is!"  says  Colin  to  himself.  "And 
how  strong  am  I!" 

But  light  though  the  little  stranger  is,  before  Colin  has 
carried  him  a  quarter  of  a  mile  he  is  tired,  and  begins  to 
pant  and  stagger. 

At  this  moment,  luckily,  he  sees  someone  approaching. 
It  is  a  young  working-man  going  thus  early  to  the  mills  to 
relieve  someone  else;  but  when  Colin  explains  all,  he  readily 
consents  to  help  to  carry  the  inanimate  burden  as  far  as 
Constitution  Street. 

"I  was  just  aff,"  he  says,  "to  relieve  ma  neebour's  shift; 
but  he  can  shift  for  himsel'  the  nicht;  for  losh,  laddie,  this 
is  an  errand  o'  mercy,  and  he  would  hae  a  hard  heart  that 
would  refuse  to  do  the  Good  Samaritan  in  a  case  like 
this." 

As  soon  as  they  got  near  to  the  cottage,  Colin  left  the 


A.  STRING  OF  MOUNTAIN   TROUT.  19 

workman  holding  the  boy  in  his  arms,  until  he  should  run 
on  and  break  the  news  to  Widow  Jackson. 

"0,  Mrs.  Jackson,"  he  said,  "don't  be  alarmed;  but  I 
found  a  poor  young  lad  on  the  Broad  Hill  who  has  evidently 
been  attacked  and  robbed,  and  I  fear  he  is  nearly  dead!" 

"And  you've  left  him!" 

"  No,  no,  mother.  A  young  mechanic  helped  me  to  carry 
him  home,  and  he  is  just  outside." 

"  Bring  him  in,  my  laddie ;  bring  him  in.  I'll  bustle  about 
and  get  hot  water  for  his  feet." 

"  This  way,"  she  said  to  the  mechanic,  who  bore  the  little 
wounded  stranger  as  easily  as  if  he  had  been  a  baby.  "  This 
way,  my  man.  Luckily  we  have  a  spare  room,  and  the 
nicht1  there  is  a  fire  in  it." 

Upstairs  she  went,  and  the  mechanic  followed;  then, 
while  Mrs.  Jackson  hurried  off  to  get  hot  water  for  the  boy's 
feet,  his  rescuers  undressed  him  and  laid  him  gently  on  the 
bed. 

"Now,"  said  the  mechanic,  "my  task  is  no  a'  done  yet;  I 
suppose  I  maun  gang  for  a  doctor." 

"0,  if  ye  would !     The  poor  lad's  life  may  be  saved." 

"  Weel,  I  ken  whaur  to  find  the  nicest  young  doctor  in  a' 
the  toon.  So  here's  for  aff." 

"It's  a  good  sign,"  the  widow  said,  as  the  strange  boy 
began  to  moan  again  after  she  had  placed  the  hot-water 
bottle  at  his  feet.  "  I'd  rather  hear  him  moanin'  like  that 
than  lyin'  like  a  deid  thing." 

The  mechanic  was  back  with  the  doctor  in  a  surprisingly 
short  space  of  time. 

"And  now,"  he  said,  as  he  ushered  him  in,  "I  maun  awa'. 
My  neebour  will  think  me  lost." 

Colin  followed  him  into  the  passage. 

He  tried  to  force  half  a  crown  into  his  hand,  but  the 
young  man  drew  himself  proudly  back. 

"What!"  he  cried;  "tak'  payment  for  an  act  o'  charity 
and  kindness.  No  a  bawbee!"2 

"Well,"  said  Colin,  feeling  a  little  ashamed,  "you  must 
forgive  me  if  I  have  insulted  you." 

i  To-night.  a  Halfpenny. 


20  TO   GREENLAND  AND  THE   POLE. 

"Nonsense!  Puir  men  like  me  have  to  pocket  mony  an 
insult,  but  they're  no  bound  to  pocket  a  penny  for  lendin' 
a  helpin'  han'  to  creatures  in  distress.  Good-nicht." 

"Good-night,  and  thank  you.     You'll  call  to-morrow V 

"That  I  will." 

And  the  Good  Samaritan  was  gone. 

Colin  returned  to  the  bed-room.  The  surgeon  was  already 
busy  at  work,  and  had  inserted  two  stitches  in  the  brow. 
Colin  looked  wonderingly  on.  He  was  surprised  to  see  one 
so  young  with  so  cool  and  collected  a  manner,  and  with 
fingers  so  lissom  and  deft.  Why,  this  surgeon  could  be  but  a 
few  years  older  than  himself. 

Presently  the  dressing  was  finished,  and  as  the  doctor 
washed  his  hands  he  looked  into  Colin's  face  and  burst  into 
a  merry  laugh. 

"I'll  wager  the  leg  of  the  gauger,"  he  said,  "I  can  tell 
what  you're  thinking  about." 

"  Well,  then,  guess,"  said  Colin. 

"  You  are  wondering  what  right  a  young  fellow  like  me 
has  to  take  a  case  like  this  in  hand1?" 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Colin. 

"  Well,  I  am  young.  Barely  nineteen.  But  though  I'm 
only  a  medical  student,  I've  been  out  to  Greenland  in  charge 
of  a  ship,  and  I've  treated  gun-shot  wounds,  and  cut  off  a 
frosted  hand;  and,  look  you,  lad,  I  could  whip  off  your  leg 
above  the  knee,  tie  the  arteries,  and  stitch  the  flaps  all  inside 
of  six  minutes!  What  think  you  of  that1?" 

Colin  shuddered  rather.  He  admitted  that  it  would  be 
excessively  clever,  but  said  that  he  was  willing  to  take  his 
word  for  it,  and  would  much  prefer  to  have  the  leg  where  it 
was. 

"But,  I  say,  Dr. — a — a,"  began  Colin. 

"  I'm  neither  Dr.  A —  nor  Dr.  B — .  I'm  plain  Rudland 
Syme." 

"Well,  Rudland,  I  was  going  to  ask  if  you  thought  this 
poor  young  fellow  would  live?" 

"Live!  Of  course  he'll  live.  What's  to  hinder  him1? 
There  is  a  little  concussion,  and  he  has  lost  a  drop  of  blood. 
But,  dear  me !  that  is  nothing.  He  is  breathing  fairly  easy 


A  STRING  OF  MOUNTAIN   TROUT.  21 

now.  And  he  has  a  pulse  as  strong  as  a  sand-donkey's. 
To  be  sure  he'll  live.  Mrs.  Jackson,  you'll  give  him  a  little 
beef-tea  when  he  can  swallow.  But  nothing  stronger.  I'm 
off;  see  you  all  to-morrow." 

Colin  went  as  far  as  the  gate  with  him,  and  could  hear 
the  young  surgeon  singing,  even  when  far  up  the  street. 
Then  he  rounded  the  corner,  and  Colin  heard  him  no  more. 

But  hardly  had  the  doctor's  voice  died  away  in  the  dis- 
tance than,  from  the  other  end  of  the  street,  came  the  sound 
of  another  voice,  also  raised  in  song. 

It  was  a  song  of  a  different  calibre  though,  and  the  throat 
was  of  a  different  calibre  also.  There  was  the  true  ring  of 
the  sea  in  that  song,  if  ever  Colin  had  heard  it.  It  was  a 
song  that  breathed  of  the  brine  and  the  breeze,  and  there 
were  notes  in  it  that  seemed  to  have  been  caught  from  the 
wild  sea-mews  themselves,  and  from  curling  waves  that  on 
nights  of  storm  go  shrieking  past  a  ship,  their  white  tops 
curling  high  above  the  swaying  bulwarks. 

"  Here,  a  sheer  hulk,  lies  poor  Tom  Bowling, 

The  darling  of  our  crew; 
No  more  he'll  hear  the  tempest  howling, 

For  Death  has  broached  him  to. 
His  form  was  of  the  manliest  beauty, 

His  heart  was  kind  and  soft, 
Faithful  below  he  did  his  duty, 
But  now  he's  gone  aloft, 

But,  now  he's  gone  aloft." 

By  the  time  the  singer — who  was  somewhat  tall  and  very 
squarely  built,  so  far  as  Colin  could  see  in  the  moonlight — 
had  sung  the  last  line  twice  over,  he  had  reached  the 
gate. 

"Hullo!  my  lad,  and  who  are  you?  And  where  do  you 
hail  from  1" 

"0,  if  you  please,  sir,  I'm  Colin  M'lvor  from  the  High- 
land hills,  and  I've  brought  a  string  of  mountain  trout  for 
your  supper." 

"Brave  boy!  Why,  you've  come  in  the  nick  of  time. 
Well,  come  inside,  and  you  shall  sit  beside  me  and  share 
the  string  of  mountain  trout." 


22          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

CHAPTER   II. 


"  A  merry  heart  goes  all  the  day, 
Your  sad  tires  in  a  mile-a !" 

NO  doubt  my  reader  has  seen  the  back  of  an  old  Cremona 
fiddle,  and  he  also  knows  the  colour  of  a  well-burned 
brick.  Well,  if  you  were  to  ask  me  to  describe  Uncle  Tom's 
complexion  I  should  get  easily  out  of  it  by  telling  you  it 
was  just  a  shade  betwixt  the  two. 

It  would  have  been  next  to  impossible  to  have  told  Uncle 
Tom's  exact  age  as  he  sat  at  table  there,  he  himself  laugh- 
ing and  making  everybody  else  laugh,  while  ever  and  anon 
he  transfixed  another  mountain  trout  with  his  steel-pronged 
fork.  He  might  have  been  five  and  forty,  or  he  might  have 
been  but  little  over  thirty. 

He  was  Widow  Jackson's  brother,  and  had  not  been  home 
from  sea  for  two  long  years,  so  what  with  the  anxiety  of 
waiting  up  for  him  so  long,  and  the  excitement  and  delight 
of  seeing  him,  and  one  thing  and  another,  I  believe  the  little 
lady  was  half  inclined  to  be  a  trifle  hysterical  over  the 
situation.  For  she  laughed  and  laughed  till  her  eyes  filled 
with  tears,  then  she  told  her  brother  she  felt  half  inclined 
to  cry. 

"  Why  should  you  pipe  your  eye,  my  dear  old  girl  ?  Why, 
Mary,  woman,  this  world  was  never  made  for  tears.  I 
declare  to  you,  Mary,  that  if  I  wasn't  far  better  engaged 
discussing  these  delicious  mountain  trout,  I'd  sing  you  a  song. 
You  know,  dear,  my  motto  was  always  this:  'Be  cheerful'. 

'  A  merry  heart  goes  all  the  day, 
Your  sad  tires  in  a  mile-a !'" 

It  will  easily  be  perceived  that  Uncle  Tom  was  a  sailor  of 
the  good  old  school — the  easy-going,  happy-go-lucky  school 
of  seamen  that  never  meet  dangers  nor  difficulties  half-way, 


CAPTAIN  JUNK  OF  THE   "BLUE  PETER".  23 

but  are  always  ready  to  do  battle  with  them  when  they  do 
appear.  Nor  must  it  be  imagined  that  this  sort  of  sailor 
has  entirely  gone  out  or  gone  under,  or  that  he  lives  only  in 
nautical  yarns,  or  on  the  stage  of  a  twopenny  theatre. 
There  are  many  of  them  to  the  fore  yet,  I  can  assure  you, 
reader.  Yet  there  may  be  some  slight  difference  between 
him  and  the  Tom-Cringle's-Log  sailor  or  the  Jack  Tar  of 
Marryat's  novels.  He  does  not  nowadays  as  a  rule  "  shiver 
his  timbers",  or  "dash  his  jib",  and  he  is  not  constantly 
hitching  up  his  wide  trousers  and  turning  his  quid  in  his 
mouth.  But  he  is  all  there  just  the  same;  good-natured  to 
a  degree,  always  willing  at  any  self-sacrifice  to  do  a  kind 
turn  for  a  messmate  or  a  fellow-creature  of  any  sort;  loving 
his  duty  for  duty's  sake,  and  quite  as  ready  to  leap  over- 
board in  half  a  gale  of  wind  to  save  a  man's  life,  as  to  swing 
himself  into  his  hammock  when  his  watch  comes  below. 

I  have  said  that  he  would  leap  overboard  to  save  a  man's  life 
— yes,  but  I  have  known  a  sailor  of  this  kind  leap  into  the 
sea  to  save  the  skipper's  cat.  This  happened,  I  may  tell  you, 
out  in  the  east  coast  of  Africa,  and  it  is  but  fair  to  add  that 
superstition  might  have  had  something  to  do  with  it,  for  the 
cat  was  a  huge  black  one,  scarcely  even  a  favourite  with  the 
men,  any  more  than  was  the  skipper  himself,  and  he  was  a 
sea-tyrant.  All  honour  to  Fred  Newburgh,  nevertheless, 
for  his  brave  deed,  for  in  those  blue  seas  sharks  abound,  and 
they  are  never  far  away  from  a  ship.  Usually  three  attach 
themselves  to  each  vessel  with  the  avowed  object  of  doing 
the  scavenging.  This  they  do  most  effectually,  grabbing  at 
and  swallowing  almost  everything  that  is  thrown  overboard, 
or  falls  overboard.  No  matter  what  it  may  be,  it  is  their 
perquisite,  a  ham  bone,  an  old  blacking  brush,  or  a  soda- 
water  bottle.  Everything  goes  down,  its  digestibility  is  a 
matter  for  future  consideration,  and  I  am  of  opinion  that 
such  things  as  bottles  and  pieces  of  hard  wood  or  cork  are 
afterwards  ejected.  At  the  same  time  these  sharks  have 
tastes.  There  was  one  I  used  to  feed  almost  daily.  He 
used  to  look  up  at  me  with  his  sly  evil  eye  in  a  languishing 
kind  of  way  meant  to  betoken  gratitude  and  affection. 

"I  love  you,  doctor,"  he  seemed  to  say,  " 0,  dearly.    And 


24  TO   GREENLAND   AND   THE   POLK 

I  love  salt  beef.  But,  dear  doc,  I'd  much  prefer  a  leg  of 
your  loblolly  boy,  if  you  could  spare  him." 

The  loblolly  boy  was  my  boy  Green,  who  spread  the 
plasters — he  always  burned  them — and  swept  out  the  dis- 
pensary, invariably  breaking  a  bottle  or  two.  I  did  not 
hold  that  boy  in  high  esteem,  and  could  have  spared  him 
easily,  only  I  did  not  think  it  quite  the  correct  thing  to  drop 
him  down  to  a  shark. 

But  about  Fred  Newburgh  and  the  skipper's  cat.  A 
couple  of  boats  were  speedily  lowered,  and  there  was  a  race 
towards  Fred,  who  was  far,  far  astern.  The  skipper  having 
shouted  that  he  would  present  a  guinea  to  the  winning 
boat's  crew  who  saved  the  cat — he  didn't  mention  Fred. 
Well,  Fred  was  picked  up.  He  was  laughing,  and  the  cat 
on  his  shoulder  was  grinning. 

"Weren't  you  afraid  of  the  sharks,  Fred?"  said  a  mess- 
mate that  same  evening  at  tea-time. 

Fred  loved  a  joke,  and  could  spin  a  good  yarn,  so  he 
answered  as  follows: 

"Well,  matie,  it  was  like  this,  just.  There  was  I 
swimming  away  easy,  merely  enough  to  keep  my  old  hull 
above  water,  and  there  was  the  tom-cat  on  my  shoulder, 
and  there  alongside  was  one  of  the  biggest  and  ugliest 
sharks  ever  you  seen.  Pass  the  sugar,  matie." 

"And  didn't  he  try  to  seize  you,  Fred?" 

"  Several  times,  matie,  but,  bless  your  innocent  soul,  every 
time  he  raised  his  ugly  snout  above  the  water,  'Fiss!'  cried 
the  cat,  and  struck  out  with  a  will,  and  off  went  Master 
Shark  with  a  rush  and  a  run;  and  the  play  proceeded  like 
that  all  the  time  till  the  boat  came,  and  Tom  and  I  were 
lugged  out  of  the  briny.  So  you  see,  matie,  the  cat  and  I 
are  kind  o'  square,  because  if  I  saved  his  life,  he  saved 
mine." 

This  yarn  of  Fred's  has  to  be  swallowed  with  more  than 
a  grain  of  salt.  I  think  it  will  need  a  drop  of  vinegar  us 
well. 

Now,  Jones  was  Uncle  Tom's  name,  and  it  is  one  that 
most  of  us  have  heard  before.  However,  he  was  never  called 
Jones  by  any  of  his  crew,  or  even  by  his  officers,  when  they 


EVERY   TIME   HE   RAISED   HIS   UGLY  SNOUT,    'FISS!' 
CRIED   THE   CAT." 


CAPTAIN   JUNK   OF  THE    "BLUE   PETER".  25 

were  not  addressing  him  face  to  face.  He  was  invariably 
spoken  of  as  Captain  Junk.  This  in  itself,  I  think,  proves 
that  he  was  a  thorough  old  salt.  He  had  entered  the  mer- 
chant service  when  a  mere  lad,  or  rather  child,  of  twelve 
years  of  age.  He  had  run  away  to  sea  in  the  old  fashion, 
been  brought  back;  ran  away  a  second,  and  even  a  third 
time;  and  after  this  his  people,  finding  it  impossible  to 
strain  any  more  against  his  strong  self-will,  apprenticed 
him  to  a  brig.  This  old  Dutch-built  "dug-out"  used  to  sail 
down  the  Mediterranean,  and  terrible  weather  she  did  make 
sometimes.  Tom's  parents  had  been  induced  to  place  him 
in  this  vessel  in  the  hope  that  he  might  soon  tire  of 

"  A  life  on  the  ocean  wave, 

And  a  home  on  the  rolling  deep," 

and  run  home  to  be  forgiven. 

Tom  did  nothing  of  the  sort.  He  had  the  grit  in  him,  as 
the  snuffy  old  man  who  commanded  the  brig  told  Tom's 
father.  The  young  sailor  took  all  his  hardships  as  a  matter 
of  course.  He  heard  the  older  sailors  grumbling  and  growl- 
ing at  everything,  as  older  sailors  will,  but  young  Tom  only 
looked  on  and  said  nothing.  The  sailors  said  sulkily  that 
the  biscuits  were  too  hard  and  much  too  weevilly,  though 
they  didn't  mind  a  fair  share  of  weevils;  that,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  pork  was  too  soft  and  too  blue.  Pork  fat 
shouldn't  be  blue,  they  said,  though  they  didn't  mind  it 
being  "highish".  The  salt  beef  was  as  old  as  the  hills  of 
Jamaica,  and  of  such  consistency  that  when  boiled  and  cold 
again  it  was  easy  to  cut  little  boats  out  of  it,  to  be  sold  as 
charms  to  the  natives  of  Greece  when  they  got  there.  Then 
the  ship  was  wet ;  she  dipped  her  head  under  water  in  rough 
weather,  and  sulked  and  kept  it  there  for  five  minutes  at  a 
time,  although  the  green  seas  were  tumbling  down  the  fore- 
hatch  like  a  waterfall;  and  the  sails  were  rotten  and  also 
the  sheets;  and  as  for  the  snuffy  old  skipper, — why  didn't 
he  go  to  Davy  Jones  and  be  done  with  it? 

But  young  Tom  took  all  this  in  good  part.  Moreover, 
he  knew  his  duty,  and  learned  quickly.  Indeed,  he  was 
like  a  monkey  in  the  rigging. 


26          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

But  for  all  his  willingness,  he  used  to  get  a  rope's-ending 
now  and  then,  and  this  also  he  took  in  good  part,  and  as  a 
portion  of  the  day's  work.  He  never  did  kick  and  howl  as 
some  "  she-boys  "  do,  but  just  lowered  his  brows,  pursed  up 
his  lips,  and  bore  it  as  well  as  he  could. 

The  snuffy  old  skipper  took  to  Tom  at  last.  A  miserable- 
looking  creature  this  skipper  was,  but  clever.  So  he  asked 
Tom  if  he  wouldn't  like  to  study  navigation  in  the  cabin 
itself.  Tom  was  delighted,  and  the  skipper  himself  superin- 
tended his  studies.  The  boy  began  to  think  that  this  curious 
little  man  was  not  so  very  objectionable  after  all — bar  the 
snuff.  But  this  fell  over  everything,  his  waistcoat,  the  table- 
cloth, and  the  books.  He  had  both  his  vest  pockets  lined 
with  india-rubber,  and  both  were  always  kept  filled  with 
brown  rappee,  while  he  used  to  help  himself  with  both 
hands  at  the  same  time. 

"Hah!"  he  would  chuckle,  as  Tom  looked  wonderingly  at 
the  performance.  "Makes  you  open  your  eyes,  don't  it? 
Well,  I've  two  nostrils,  two  hands,  and  two  pockets,  why 
shouldn't  I  save  time?  Eh?  Hah,  hah!" 

For  four  years  Tom  had  sailed  with  this  queer  old 
skipper,  and  then  a  terrible  thing  happened.  They  had 
been  down  the  Mediterranean,  and  went  next  on  a  voyage 
to  Madeira.  Whether  they  had  caught  cholera  there  or  not 
it  is  impossible  to  say.  But  at  all  events  they  had  not  left 
the  place  two  days  before  that  fearful  plague  broke  out 
with  great  virulence. 

The  brig  was  bearing  up  for  Gibraltar,  and  the  wind  was 
high  and  somewhat  against  her.  She  made  dismal  weather 
for  days.  Meanwhile  her  crew  were  dying  fast.  But  the 
first  to  succumb  was  the  snuffy  old  skipper  himself.  Then 
the  second  mate,  then  hand  after  hand,  till  only  three  were 
left  alive  in  the  brig. 

Then  ensued  sufferings  such  as  few  old  sailors  have  ever 
come  through.  The  plague  was  stayed,  it  is  true,  but  the 
wind  was  still  fierce,  and  the  waves  were  houses  high. 
Several  square  sails  were  blown  to  ribbons — a  good  thing 
perhaps,  for  they  could  not  have  shortened  them  or  taken 
them  in;  so  they  were  simply  left  to  rattle  in  the  breeze, 


CAPTAIN   JUNK  OF  THE    "BLUE  PETER".  27 

making  a  noise  like  volleys  of  platoon-firing.  The  trysail 
could  be  easily  managed,  so  could  the  jibs,  but  in  three 
days'  time  the  mate, — who  was  one  of  the  three  the  plague 
had  spared, — was  nearly  worn  out,  and  this  made  poor 
young  Tom's  duties  all  the  more  onerous. 

The  mate,  too,  took  to  drinking  rum,  to  keep  him  up,  as 
he  averred.  Oh,  the  foolish,  foolish  fellow,  it  only  made 
him  stupid  and  useless ! 

Tom  was  at  the  wheel  one  night.  A  dark  and  dismal 
night  it  was,  for  although  it  was  the  month  of  May  the  sky 
was  densely  overcast,  and  there  was  neither  moon  nor  stars 
behind  the  racing  clouds.  The  man  was  forward  on  the 
outlook,  and  the  ship  was  running  easily  and  briskly 
enough,  for  such  an  old  tub,  before  the  wind,  which  was 
favourable  at  last,  when  suddenly  it  appeared  to  be  gray 
daylight  all  at  once.  If  the  truth  must  be  told,  the  lad 
had  fallen  asleep  at  the  wheel,  and  no  wonder.  But  he  felt 
refreshed  now,  and  hungry;  so  he  shouted  to  the  mate,  who 
was  lying  curled  up  on  the  leeside  of  the  quarter-deck,  to 
come  and  take  his  trick  at  the  wheel. 

There  was  no  reply. 

Hearing  Tom  singing  out,  the  seaman  ran  aft. 

"Wake  the  mate,"  said  Tom. 

The  man  bent  down  and  shook  the  first  officer  by  the 
shoulder.  Then  he  stood  up  with  a  puzzled  look  on  his 
face,  but  grinning  nevertheless. 

"  Why,  lad,"  he  said,  "  the  mate's  as  cold  and  stiff  as  the 
mainstay!" 

It  was  too  true!     He  was  dead. 

That  same  day  the  boy  Tom  went  aloft,  for  the  wind  had 
lulled.  He  had  not  been  up  more  than  a  few  minutes  before 
he  shouted: 

"Land!  land!" 

It  was  a  glorious  sound  that!  The  weary  man  at  the 
helm  regained  courage,  and  almost  wept  for  joy. 

But  their  sufferings  were  not  yet  at  an  end,  for  the  wind 
rose  again  towards  sundown,  and  how  that  worn  and 
weakly  man  with  the  boy  Tom  managed  to  get  their  brig 
into  Gibraltar  was  more  than  either  could  ever  tell.  But 


28  TO   GREENLAND   AND   THE   POLE. 

they  did.  Ah!  what  is  it  a  British  sailor  can't  do  when 
he  tries'? 

There  was  not  a  newspaper  in  England  that  had  not  a 
paragraph  about  the  adventure,  and  when  Tom  got  home  at 
last  he  found  himself  somewhat  more  of  a  hero  than  he 
desired  to  be.  However,  a  well-known  firm  of  shipping 
people  sent  for  the  lad,  who  at  that  time  was  terribly  shy, 
and  offered  him  a  midshipman's  berth  in  a  good  ship. 

He  did  not  remain  a  midshipman  very  long ;  in  fact,  wear- 
ing dandy  clothes  was  not  much  in  Tom's  line,  but  he  was 
that  sort  of  lad  who  could  conquer  self  when  duty  bade 
him.  He  soon  passed  for  second  mate,  and  in  time  for  first 
mate  with  a  master  mariner's  certificate. 

He  worked  up  and  up,  steadily  and  fairly,  and  before  he 
was  thirty  was  in  command  of  a  bran-new  sailing  ship  that 
was  nearly  all  his  own.  Some  years  afterwards  his  partner 
died,  and  Captain  Junk,  as  we  may  now  and  then  call  him, 
found  himself  in  a  position  to  buy  up  the  other  shares. 

The  vessel,  though  not  very  large,  was  full-rigged  and 
clipper-built.  She  had  been  baptized  the  Rex.  Tom  never 
liked  this  name;  he  was,  like  most  sailors,  just  a  trifle  super- 
stitious, and  Hex  could  be  spelt  Wrecks]  so  he  determined  to 
re-baptize  her. 

Now  the  pilots  had  called  the  ship  the  Blue  Peter,  because 
she  stayed  such  a  short  time  in  port.  In  fact  she  had  no 
sooner  discharged  her  cargo  than  the  Blue  Peter,  or  sailing 
Hag,  was  up  again. 

When  it  came  to  Captain  Junk's  ears  that  his  brave  ship 
was  nicknamed  the  Blue  Peter  he  laughed,  for  it  pleased 
him  well. 

"  It  shows  what  an  active  pair  we  are,"  he  told  his  mate, 
"me  and  my  old  ship"  (it  will  be  noted  that  Captain  Junk 
was  not  over-grammatical  in  his  English  at  times).  "So, 
bother  my  wig,  if  she  sha'n't  be  baptized  the  Blue  Peter." 

And  the  very  next  day  the  ceremony  was  performed,  an 
old  maiden  lady  who  lived  in  Leith  having  kindly  consented 
to  break  the  bottle  of  wine,  and  name  the  clipper. 

This  lady  was  dressed  for  the  occasion  all  in  white  and 
blue,  and  very  much  younger  than  her  years. 


CAPTAIN   JUNK   OF  THE    "BLUE   PETER".  29 

"I  do  believe,  you  know,"  said  Uncle  Tom  that  night  in 
his  sister's  house,  but  addressing  Colin,  "  that  the  old  thing 
was  setting  her  cap  at  me.  She  was  dressed  like  a  girl  of 
fifteen,  but,  bless  you,  boy,  she  was  all  skink — just  like  the 
scrag-end  of  a  leg  of  veal,  you  know.  But  I  gave  a  splendid 
luncheon  down  below,  then  I  told  off  my  mate  to  take  Miss 
Stivers  home." 

"  You  might  have  gone  yoursel',"  said  Widow  Jackson. 

Uncle  Tom  had  finished  his  supper,  and  was  seated  in 
the  easy-chair  smoking. 

He  waved  his  hand  in  front  of  him  to  clear  his  sight 
before  he  exclaimed : 

"Me,  sister!  Me  go  home  with  a  young  lady  or  old 
maid!  Why,  bother  my  wig,  Mary,  she  might  have  pro- 
posed to  me  in  the  cab,  and — I  should  have  been  far  too 
good-natured  to  say  her  nay.  No,  no,  sister;  a  sailor  needs 
no  wife  save  his  ship.  And  I  have  my  own  bonnie  Blue 
Peter." 

"I  suppose,"  said  Colin,  "you  have  been  everywhere  in 
the  world,  sir]" 

"Well,  I  wouldn't  like  to  say  that,  you  know,  but  I've 
seen  a  good  deal  of  it." 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  the  wounded  stranger  was 
being  neglected  while  Uncle  Tom  was  having  supper,  a  chat, 
and  a  smoke.  No,  he  was  being  carefully  tended  by  Katie 
herself,  whom  her  uncle  had  bidden  good-night  to,  thinking 
she  was  going  off  to  bed,  for  Mrs.  Jackson  had  determined 
to  say  nothing  to  her  brother  to-night  about  Colin's  adventure 
on  the  Links. 

Captain  Junk  was  exceedingly  tender-hearted,  more  espe- 
cially towards  boys;  and  the  knowledge  that  a  poor  lad, 
wounded  almost  to  death,  was  lying  under  the  same  roof 
with  him  would  have  kept  him  awake  all  night.  Or  rather, 
I  should  say,  all  the  morning,  for  it  was  already  verging  on 
four  o'clock. 

Presently  Uncle  Tom  (N.B. — I  must  reserve  to  myself 
the  right  to  call  him  either  Uncle  Tom  or  Captain  Jones  or 
Junk  as  it  suits  me  or  my  story)  pulled  an  immensely  large 
gold  watch  from  his  pocket;  then  started  up. 


30          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"  I  declare,  sister,"  he  cried,  "  it  has  long  gone  seven  bells 
in  the  middle  watch.  I'll  turn  in  at  once." 

He  might  have  said  "  half-past  three  "  instead  of  "  seven 
bells  ".  Your  very  modern  sailor  would  have  spoken  thus, 
but  Tom  would  have  considered  such  a  way  of  talking  mere 
affectation,  an  impudent  aping  of  landsmen  on  shore. 

"Come,  Colin,  where  do  you  hang  out  to-night?" 

"I've  slung  him  a  hammock  in  your  room,  Tom.  I 
thought  you  wouldn't  mind." 

"Wouldn't  mind,  sister?     Why,  I'll  be  delighted." 

Colin  had  a  new  experience  that  night.  He  had  never 
slept  in  a  hammock  before.  He  managed  to  wriggle  in  all 
right;  but  shortly  after,  he  thought  he  would  alter  his  posi- 
tion and  ease  it.  Well,  the  alteration  was  speedily  a  fait 
accompli,  though  I  have  my  doubts  about  the  easedom,  for 
as  soon  as  he  turned  partly  round,  the  hammock  did  the 
rest,  and  landed  him  on  the  deck — I  should  say  floor — with 
all  the  bed-clothes  and  pillows  on  top  of  him. 

Uncle  Tom,  who  was  just  getting  into  bed,  laughed 
heartily  at  Colin's  mishap,  but  he  helped  him  into  his 
hammock  again,  tucked  him  in,  and  told  him  how  he  must 
lie  for  comfort  and  safety. 

Then  hp  said,  "  Good-night,  and  pleasant  dreams  ". 

In  two  minutes  more  both  Colin  and  Uncle  Tom  were 
as  sound  asleep  as  a  pair  of  humming-tops. 


CHAPTER  IIL 

A  LAD  FROM  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MIDNIGHT  SUN. 

MISS  DEWAR'S  house  was  in  Union  Street  and  pretty 
far  out  towards  the  West  end — towards  the  Free 
Church  College.  It  therefore  occupied  a  position  of  con- 
siderable respectability.  With  its  tall  stone  steps  leading 
up  to  it,  its  polished  ebony-like  door,  glittering  brass 
knocker  and  bell-pull,  and  its  great  curtained  windows,  it 


A  LAD  FROM  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MIDNIGHT  SUN.   31 

was  called  by  street  boys  "  a  grand,  grand  hoose  wi'  mebbe 
a  ghost  intill't"1,  and  looked  up  to  with  a  species  of  awe. 

The  early  sweep,  who  came  up  the  street  shouting  "  Bee — 
eep!  bee — eep!  beep!  beep!"  long  before  seven  o'clock,  al- 
ways lowered  his  voice  when  he  came  near  Miss  Dewar's 
mansion.  The  carter  who  sold  coals  by  the  sackful,  and  in 
less  respectable  neighbourhoods  cried  "  Coals !  coals !  coal — 
loal — loal — oals!"  at  the  top  of  his  voice  drove  silently  past 
Miss  Dewar's. 

The  sand-boy  with  cart  and  cuddy  never  stopped  to  invite 
business  here,  unless  beckoned  to  by  one  of  the  smartly- 
capped  female  domestics.  The  grocer's  man  always  put  on 
his  cleanest  apron  when  bringing  purchases  to  this  house. 
The  burly  policeman  never  permitted  noisy  boys  to  play 
marbles  in  front  of  it,  and  when  the  postman  arrived  he 
ran  up  the  granite  steps  on  tiptoe,  and  instead  of  knocking 
gently  rang  the  bell,  because  it  communicated  with  the 
kitchen.  But  none  of  these  men  were  forgotten  at  Christmas- 
time, and  I  am  not  sure,  indeed,  that  their  exemplary  conduct 
was  not  regulated  by  a  kind  of  prescience,  that  this  festive 
season  did  really  come  once  a  year. 

Was  Miss  Dewar's  house,  then,  one  of  the  severely  genteel 
sort? 

Oh,  no,  not  in  the  least.  And  Miss  Dewar  herself  was 
a  very  pleasant  person  indeed.  She  was  an  old  maid — she 
frankly  confessed  to  being  so — but  one  of  the  nice  kind. 
She  did  not  mind  telling  people  that  she  was  five-and-thirty, 
and  I  feel  quite  sure  that  if  the  lady  had  been  five-and-forty 
the  information  would  have  been  equally  at  the  disposal  of 
her  friends. 

She  was  neither  scraggy  and  lean  nor  too  stout,  she  had 
bright  blue  eyes,  a  rose  in  each  cheek,  teeth  like  pearls — 
oh,  yes,  they  really  were  her  own — and  dark  hair,  with  a 
silver  thread  or  two  about  the  temples,  and  surmounted 
always  by  a  tiny  net  cap  of  great  neatness. 

There  really  was  no  nonsense  nor  humbug  about  Miss 
Dewar. 

"  Well,  Miss  Dewar,"  said  her  friend  Mrs.  M 'Arthur  one 

1  In  it. 


32  TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

evening  at  a  tea  party  that  the  old  maid  was  giving,  "  I'm 
sure  it  puzzles  me  why  you  never  married." 

Miss  Dewar  laughed  lightly  and  amusedly  as  she  made 
reply : 

"  Why,  my  dear  Mrs.  M 'Arthur,  it  isn't  a  woman's  privilege 
to  marry,  but  to  be  married;  it  isn't  her  privilege  to  ask, 
but  to  be  asked.  Perhaps,"  she  added,  with  a  little  sigh,  as 
she  took  up  the  dainty  white  china  teapot,  "  if  the  right  man 
had  come  at  the  right  time.  Pass  your  cup,  Mrs.  M' Arthur." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Mac,  feeling  perhaps  a  little  sorry  she 
had  given  her  friend  cause  to  sigh,  "  you  are,  no  doubt,  just 
as  well  as  you  are.  The  married  life  isn't  all  strawberries 
and  cream." 

"Indeed  that  is  true!"  said  another  lady. 

But  Miss  Dewar's  life  at  all  events  seemed  a  very 
happy  and  contented  one,  and  it  was  certainly  peaceful 
enough.  She  kept  up  a  daily  round  of  visits  nevertheless, 
and  few  dinner  parties  among  the  good  people  of  the  town 
were  considered  altogether  complete  if  Miss  Devvar  was 
not  there. 

The  young  men,  and  young  maidens  as  well,  used  to  con- 
sult her  on  all  kinds  of  matters,  and  if  a  girl  were  going  to 
be  married  Miss  Dewar  very  frequently  had  a  hand,  or  an 
eye  and  voice,  in  the  choosing  the  trousseau.  So,  on  the 
whole,  she  was  the  person  nobody  would  have  liked  to  have 
missed  seeing. 

The  doctor,  even,  used  to  send  her  upon  errands  of  mercy, 
which  she  gladly  took  in  hand,  and  the  minister  often  asked 
her  advice  on  matters  connected  with  the  church. 

Old  maids  are  often  called  fussy  and  particular.  There 
was  nothing  of  this  sort  about  Miss  Dewar.  Old  maids 
frequently  have  cats  and  parrots  as  pets.  Miss  Dewar's 
taste  lay  in  another  direction.  At  the  time  our  story 
commences  she  had  just  come  into  possession  of  a  splendid 
Landseer  Newfoundland.  To  be  sure,  he  was  barely  twelve 
months  old,  and  hardly  so  well-mannered  as  he  might  have 
been,  but  a  right  good  heart  gazed  out  through  his  hazel 
eyes,  and  his  mistress  had  determined  to  take  every  pains 
with  his  education. 


A   LAD   FROM  THE   LAND   OF  THE   MIDNIGHT   SUN.       33 

He  was  already  of  immense  size,  and  would  be  bigger. 
His  white  legs  were  very  massive,  he  had  paws  like  a  young 
bear,  white  and  black  as  to  body,  and  with  a  tasteful  blaze 
adown  his  forehead.  He  was  what  would  have  been  called 
in  a  collie  dog  bawsint-faced. 

I  think  that  Caesar  thoroughly  loved  and  appreciated  his 
gentle  mistress,  and  had  made  a  vow  to  himself  that  he 
would  do  all  in  his  power  to  become  a  good  dog  and  a 
respectable  member  of  society.  If  he  did  make  such  a  vow 
he  certainly  kept  it,  though,  of  course,  this  is  only  my  way 
of  telling  you  that  he  turned  out  a  very  obedient  and 
clever  dog  indeed,  as  his  future  history  will  tend  to  prove. 

Now,  about  eleven  o'clock  on  the  day  after  Colin's 
strange  adventure,  who  should  run  up  the  granite  steps  of 
Miss  Dewar's  mansion  but  Colin  himself.  His  aunt  had 
seen  him  coming,  for  her  favourite  seat  was  by  the  window, 
and  just  outside  hung  a  mirror,  in  which  she  could  note 
everything  that  was  going  on  even  a  long  way  down  the  street. 

So  she  ran  to  open  the  door  to  him,  and  was  there  before 
even  Jane  herself,  smart  though  that  tidy  little  servant 
maiden  was. 

She  was  positively  glad  to  see  him.  She  held  out  both 
hands  to  him,  and  welcomed  him  in  right  heartily.  No, 
she  did  not  kiss  him.  The  fact  is  that  people  in  Scotland 
are  not  so  fond  of  saluting  in  this  way  as  they  are  in  Eng- 
land, and  I  am  very  glad  of  it. 

You  could  have  noted  at  a  glance,  however,  that  Colin 
was  a  favourite  here.  Annie,  the  handmaiden,  had  a  nod 
and  a  smile  for  him,  and  he  had  a  nod  and  a  kind  word  for 
Annie.  Before  he  got  inside  a  dark  gray  cat  came  and 
rubbed  herself  against  his  leg,  and  when  he  entered  the 
room  Csesar,  the  Landseer  Newfoundlander,  jumped  up  from 
the  bearskin  rug  on  which  he  had  been  lying,  put  his  two 
great  paws  on  Colin's  shoulder,  nearly  pulling  him  down. 
Then  he  started  for  a  run,  a  habit  these  dogs  have.  There 
was  little  room,  however,  even  in  Miss  Dewar's  big  drawing- 
room  for  a  wild  and  excited  dog  of  Caesar's  size  to  stretch 
his  legs  and  allay  his  excitement.  But  the  door  was  open, 
so  out  he  bolted;  downstairs  to  the  basement  he  ran,  upstairs 

(988)  C 


34          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

again,  up  and  up  as  far  as  the  attics,  here  he  turned  on  the 
landing  and  came  thundering  down  once  more,  and  at  such 
a  pace  that  the  marvel  was  he  didn't  break  his  neck.  Into 
the  drawing-room  now,  twice  round  it  at  the  gallop,  then 
out  again  and  up  and  downstairs  again.  This  mad  game  he 
continued  until  he  was  fain  to  lie  down  and  pant. 

"And  how  are  you,  my  dear  boy]  And  how  is  your 
uncle  and  aunt?  And  when  did  you  come]  And — 

"Wait,  wait,  auntie;  I  couldn't  even  remember  so  many 
questions  all  at  once.  Let  me  try,  though.  First  and 
foremost,  I'm  jolly,  and  Aunt  M'lvor  is  jolly,  and  uncle  is 
jollier,  and — and — what  was  the  other  question,  Auntie 
Dewar]" 

"When  did  you  come?     This  morning,  of  course]" 

"Well — well,  I  believe  it  must  have  been  this  morning. 
But  I  don't  think  that  much  of  the  morning  had  gone,  for 
I  remember  that  one  o'clock  struck  while  I  was  sitting 
astride  of  a  gun  in  Castlegate  talking  to  John  Jackson,  the 
bobby." 

"Boy,  boy,  you  speak  riddles.  Come,  seat  yourself  on 
the  ottoman  and  give  a  proper  account  of  yourself." 

"Well,  Auntie  Dewar,  I  have  such  a  lot  to  tell  that  I 
think  I  had  better  begin  at  the  beginning,  and  go  straight 
through  my  wonderful  and  adventurous  tale." 

While  Colin  is  talking  to  his  aunt,  we  may  as  well  return 
to  Constitution  Street. 

Captain  Junk  didn't  get  up  very  early,  but  he  ate  a 
hearty  breakfast  when  he  did  turn  out.  Then  he  was  told 
about  the  wounded  boy,  and  on  tiptoe  went  straight  away 
to  see  him. 

Now,  captains  of  ships  like  the  one  which  this  honest  sailor 
commanded  don't  carry  doctors  as  a  rule — that  is,  not 
unless  they  have  forty  souls  on  board  all  told.  So,  very 
often,  they  have  to  be  captains  and  doctors  as  well.  They 
are  supplied  with  a  medicine  chest  and  a  mariner's  guide 
thereto,  and  it  is  needless  to  say  that  they  just  as  frequently 
give  the  wrong  medicine  as  the  right  one.  But  as  regards 
wounds,  bruises,  fractures,  and  dislocations,  they  are  usually 
pretty  handy. 


A  LAD  FROM  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MIDNIGHT  SUN.   35 

So,  as  he  approached  the  bedside  where  the  boy  lay  quiet 
and  still,  Captain  Junk  assumed  quite  a  professional  air. 
He  took  the  boy's  wrist  to  feel  his  pulse,  and  pulled  out  his 
big  chronometer  of  a  watch  to  consult  as  he  did  so.  Then 
he  touched  the  lad's  cheek  with  the  back  of  his  brown  hand, 
listened  for  a  moment  to  his  breathing,  then,  beckoning  to 
his  sister,  left  the  room  on  tiptoe  just  as  he  had  entered  it. 

Widow  Jackson  was  overawed  by  her  brother's  assump- 
tion of  professional  knowledge.  Even  the  young  doctor 
himself  had  not  impressed  her  half  so  much. 

"Will  he  die?"  she  whispered,  when  they  were  once 
more  out  on  the  landing. 

"Die,  sister1?  Never  a  die  till  his  day  comes,  and  that 
won't  be  for  a  while  yet,  if  we  can  manage  aright.  His  pulse 
is  normal." 

"  Is  that  a  good  sign  or  a  bad,  brother?" 

"  Good,  of  course.  His  breathing  is  pretty  regular — just 
a  trifle  of  a  hitch  in  it,  as  one  would  naturally  expect.  But 
his  skin  is  warm  and  moist.  He'd  do,  but  for  one  thing, 
sister." 

"Tell  me,  Tom,  and  I'll  send  to  the  druggist's  for  it  at 
once." 

"  The  druggist  doesn't  keep  it.  I  mean  fresh  air.  That 
room  is  too  small.  To  keep  the  window  constantly  open 
might  endanger  his  life.  You  see,  sis,  the  boy  has  been  a 
sailor,  I  think,  young  as  he  is — well,  he  won't  do  with 
stuffiness,  so Listen!" 

It  was  the  sound  of  the  iron  gate,  a  rat-tat-tat  at  the 
door,  and  a  bold  young  voice  trolling  out  some  lines  of  the 

"  Come  where  my  love  lies  dreaming, 
Dreaming  the  happy  hours  away." 

The  door  was  opened. 

"Hillo,  Katie!  how  is  the  patient?  Has  he  spoken  yet?" 
and  then  hardly  waiting  for  an  answer,  the  young  doctor, 
for  it  was  he,  began  to  whistle;  and  then  he  came  trotting 
upstairs. 

Certainly  not  a  very  dignified,  nor  a  very  professional  way, 
of  entering  a  patient's  house. 


36          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"  So  glad  you've  come,  sir ! "  said  the  widow. 

"So  am  I.     How's  the  lad?" 

He  did  not  wait  for  a  reply,  but  went  straight  in,  not  on 
tiptoe. 

"  So — ho,"  he  said  after  a  slight  examination.  "  He  is 
doing  well." 

He  lifted  first  one  eyelid  and  then  another.  Then  he 
went  and  lit  a  candle,  and  repeated  the  examination  of  the 
eyes,  drawing  the  candle  away  and  approaching  it  to  the 
boy's  face  several  times. 

"Beautiful!"  he  said.  "He'll  talk  this  afternoon.  Or 
he  would  if — why,  you  had  better  open  the  window." 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!"  laughed  Uncle  Tom.  "Didn't  I  tell  you 
so,  Mary?  Didn't  I  tell  you  sol" 

"Are  you  the  boy's  father,  sir?" 

"No,  I'm  nobody's  father  as  yet.  I'm  Jones,  master 
mariner.  They  call  me  Junk  for  short.  Captain  Junk, 
of  the  Blue  Peter,  at  your  service,  young  sir.  But  I  am 
entirely  of  your  way  of  thinking;  the  lad  wants  a  few  more 
cubic  feet  of  air." 

"  Well — "  the  doctor  began. 

Rat,  tat,  tat,  tat.  Once  more  the  knocker  was  being 
briskly  plied,  and  Katie  came  running  into  the  room,  push- 
ing her  hair  back  behind  her  ears. 

"0,  mither!"  she  cried. 

"Fat  [what]  is't,  lassie?" 

"0,  a  carriage  and  pair!" 

"Weel,  rin  doon  and  open  the  door  to  the  gentle 
folks." 

A  minute  afterwards  Colin  himself  ran  upstairs. 

"She  wouldn't  hear  of  anything  else,"  he  began.  "My 
aunt,  I  mean,"  seeing  his  audience  looked  puzzled.  "She 
says  that  if  the  lad  can  be  lifted  at  all  he  must  be  conveyed 
in  the  landau  to  her  house,  where  he  will  have  every  attention 
and  care;  and  she  says  also,  Captain  Jones,  that  she  would 
like  very  much  to  see  you." 

"See  me;  but — how  did — " 

"0,  of  course,  I  told  her  all  about  you.  Now  what 
answer,  doctor,  shall  I  give  my  aunt?" 


A  LAD  FROM  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MIDNIGHT  SUN.   37 

"I  will  call  myself  this  evening  after  I  have  seen  my 
patient  again,  but  I  think  it  can  be  managed." 

Two  days  after  this  Olaf  Eanna,  for  that  was  the  unfortu- 
nate boy's  name,  was  comfortably  ensconced  in  one  of  the 
very  largest  bed-rooms  in  Kilmorrack  House — the  residence 
of  Miss  Dewar  was  thus  named — and  there  he  was  tenderly 
nursed  by  Uncle  Tom  and  little  Katie;  while  Miss  Dewar 
herself  glided  in  and  out  at  any  time,  but  as  silently  as  a 
ghost  might  have  done. 

The  lady  was  really  in  her  element;  she  had  got  some 
one  to  nurse,  and  there  was,  moreover,  a  spice  of  mystery 
and  romance  about  the  case  such  as  she  confessed  she  dearly 
loved. 

Yes,  Olaf  had  spoken.  He  had  told  his  name,  but  could 
as  yet  give  no  very  coherent  account  of  himself ;  only  he 
frequently  whispered  the  words  "  Sigurd  "  and  "  Inverness  ". 
Then  he  would  doze  off  again,  so  that  the  young  doctor  was, 
on  the  whole,  somewhat  anxious  about  him. 

He  might,  so  he  told  Miss  Dewar,  take  a  turn  for  the 
better  at  any  moment — or  a  turn  for  the  worse.  In  order 
that  the  noise  and  rattle  of  passing  carts  and  carriages 
might  not  fall  upon  the  wounded  lad's  ears,  his  hostess  had 
the  street  covered  some  distance  up  and  down  with  refuse 
from  the  tan-yards.  It  must  be  confessed,  therefore,  that 
Olaf  Ranna  had  fallen  among  good  Samaritans  from  the  very 
first. 

And  thanks  to  all  the  capital  nursing  he  received,  and  all 
the  attention  from  young  "  Doctor  "  Eudland  Syme — really 
he  deserves  the  courtesy  of  the  appellation,  albeit  it  would 
be  a  long  time  yet  ere  he  could  assume  the  title  as  a  right — 
Olaf  was  soon  out  of  danger. 

Rudland  was  in  no  hurry  to  pass  for  doctor,  he  told 
Captain  Junk,  adding  that  he  might  possibly  take  another 
voyage  to  sea,  to  America  or  Greenland  or  somewhere  before 
passing,  for  he  had  plenty  of  time  as  far  as  age  was  con- 
cerned. 

Now  that  his  brow  was  healing  beautifully,  and  every 
particle  of  swelling  was  gone  from  his  eyes,  and  he  could 


38          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

sit  up  in  bed,  and  smile,  and  talk,  Olaf  turned  out  to  be  a 
good-looking  and  bright  lad. 

Of  course,  he  had  a  story  to  tell,  and  one  evening  he  was 
permitted  to  tell  it.  There  was  nobody  there  but  Uncle 
Tom,  Colin,  Katie,  and  Miss  Dewar.  Rudland  had  promised 
to  come,  but  was  doubtless  detained  somewhere. 

"And  now,  dear  child,"  said  Miss  Dewar,  as  she  folded 
her  hands  on  her  black  silk  apron,  "  we  are  all  wishing  to 
hear  your  story.  Even  honest  Caesar  there  is  all  atten- 
tion." 

It  really  did  seem  so,  for  the  great  dog  was  leaning  his 
monster  head  on  the  boy's  bed,  and  looking  into  his  face 
with  those  speaking  hazel  eyes  of  his,  as  if  he  knew  every 
word  that  was  being  spoken,  and  was  only  waiting  to  hear 
more. 

"Story,  Miss  Dewar?"  said  Olaf,  with  a  faint  smile. 
"  Then  I  am  truly  sorry,  because  I  have  none  to  tell." 

"0,  but  you  have,  boy.  You  are,  we  know,  a  Nor- 
wegian. Then  how  came  you  to  speak  English  so  well?" 

This  gave  Olaf  a  commencement. 

"0,  you  know,  Miss  Dewar,  my  mother  is  English,  at 
least  she  is  Scotch.  Her  father's  home  is  near  Inverness. 
We  often  stay  there  in  summer,  and  there  I  have  been  to 
school." 

"And  your  father?" 

"O,  poor  father  died  some — many  years  ago.  He  was 
captain  of  a  Norwegian  sealing  and  whaling  ship.  Dear 
Miss  Dewar — "  there  were  tears  now  in  the  lad's  blue  eyes, 
and  seeing  this  evidence  of  grief,  kind-hearted  Uncle  Tom 
said  "Poor  boy!  poor  lad!"  and  patted  the  pale  hand  that 
lay  outside  the  coverlet — "Dear  Miss  Dewar,  father  was 
killed  by  an  ice-bear  while  out  shooting  on  the  pack  ice." 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  then  resumed  his  brief  narra- 
tive. 

"  I  have  sometimes  thought,  since  coming  to  my  senses, 
that,  having  been  to  Greenland,  Dr.  Rudland  Syme  might 
have  known  my  father." 

"O,  no,  no,"  said  Miss  Dewar.  "Dismiss  that  idea  from 
your  head.  Kudland  was  out  only  quite  recently." 


A  LAD  FROM  THE  LAND  OF  THE  MIDNIGHT  SUN.   39 

"Well,"  said  Olaf,  "I'm  very  stupid  as  yet,  but  after 
father's  death,  mother  could  not  bear  to  live  in  Norway  for 
years,  so  we  came  to  Scotland,  but  father's  house  was  not 
sold.  It  is  still  kept  up.  I  go  often  there  now,  and  mother 
has  been  sometimes.  I  dearly  love  Norway — its  dales  and 
glens,  its  hills  and  mountains,  its  dark  and  gloomy  fjords, 
ay,  and  its  great  snow  plains, — and  I  am  going  back  soon. 
You  know,  Miss  Dewar,  I  and  Sigurd  Walsen  came  over  here 
to  Aberdeen  in  our  little  yacht?" 

"Yes,  boy,  and  who  is  Sigurd1?" 

"  0,  Sigurd  is  the  bravest  and  the  cleverest  man  in  the 
world,  Miss  Dewar.  He  was  my  father's  third  officer  or 
spectioneer.  He  was  with  father  when  the  awful  ice-bear 
struck  him  down,  and  although  Sigurd  had  nothing  but  a 
seal  club,1  he  attacked  the  great  bear,  and  after  a  fearful 
struggle,  wounded  him  terribly.  But,  for  all  that,  the  bear 
got  away,  and  after  a  month,  he  came  back  to  the  ship  and 
killed  a  boy,  but  no  one  could  kill  or  even  wound  the  ice- 
bear  again. 

"  Poor  father  was  placed  in  a  coffin,  and  hoisted  into  the 
foretop.  Three  or  four  months  after,  Miss  Dewar  (and  I 
remember  that  day  well),  the  ship  came  into  the  fjord  with 
her  flag  half-mast.  My  mother  knew  then  that  father  was 
dead,  and  she  was  frantic  with  grief.  Our  house  is  built  on 
a  brae  quite  in  sight  of  the  sea." 

"Dear  boy!" 

"Well,  Miss  Dewar,  father  was  frozen,  you  know,  and  I 
could  hardly  believe  he  was  dead,  but  only  just  asleep. 
Poor  father ! 

"But  Sigurd  hasn't  gone  to  sea  again,  though  he  will 
some  day,  perhaps,  but  for  quite  a  long  time  mother  couldn't 
bear  him  out  of  her  sight,  and  always  would  have  him  talk 
of  father.  You  see  he  was  a  favourite  of  father's,  and  nearly 
always  with  him.  And  now  Sigurd  lives  at  our  house  in 
Norway,  and  looks  after  it  in  mother's  absence,  except  when 
he  is  at  sea  with  me  in  our  little  yacht." 

"Is  it  a  nice  yacht?"  Colin  ventured. 

"  0  no,  at  least  you  would  hardly  call  it  so;  but  it  has  a 

1 A  kind  of  pole-axe  used  for  killing  seals,  and  not  really  a  club. 


40  TO   GREENLAND  AND   THE   POLE. 

tiny  cabin  amidships,  and  on  the  whole  it  does  well  to  go 
fishing  cruises  in,  all  around  the  fjords.  Well,  we  came  over 
here  in  it.  Yes,  Miss  Dewar,  it  is  a  somewhat  venturesome 
voyage,  because  there  were  only  myself  and  a  boy — I'm 
sixteen,  and  a  man,  though  not  big — and  Sigurd.  But  I'm 
never  afraid  on  the  stormiest  nights  when  Sigurd  is  near." 

"And  where  is  Sigurd  now1?" 

"  Sigurd  brought  me  in  here  the  night  of  my  accident. 
Then  he  went  away  round  to  Peterhead  where  he  has 
friends  among  the  seal-fishing  people.  By  this  time  he 
must  be  in  Inverness,  but  I  am  glad  mother  doesn't  know 
that  I  am  hurt. 

"What  did  you  say,  Miss  Dewar?  Oh,  he  left  me 
here  to  have  a  look  at  the  Granite  City,  because  I  had  often 
heard  of  its  wondrous  beauty.  He  took  me  to  our  little 
hotel  on  the  quay  where  my  box  is,  and  at  moonrise  I  went 
out  to  wander  by  the  sea  and  to  take  a  lunar  observation. 
I  had  climbed  the  green  hill,  and  was  taking  an  observation 
as  well  as  I  could,  when  I  was  knocked  down  from  behind. 
I  don't  know  who  did  it.  Yes,  I  had  a  splendid  watch. 
It  was  father's.  And  I  had  a  purse,  but  there  was  but  a  few 
pounds  in  that.  So  I  have  not  lost  much,  except  the 
watch.  I'd  like  to  see  that  again!" 

"Well,"  said  Colin,  "John  Jackson  assures  me  he  will  do 
all  he  can  to  find  it.  He  says  he  has  put  Tarn  Gibb,  the 
detective,  on  the  track,  and  that  Tarn  will  recover  it  if  it  be 
in  the  city,  and  find  the  thieves  too." 

Olaf  now  lay  back  somewhat  wearily,  and  Miss  Dewar 
made  haste  to  get  him  some  nourishing  refreshment,  after 
which  he  dozed  off,  and  Colin  sat  by  his  bedside  to  watch. 

A  score  of  strange  but  pleasant  thoughts  kept  running 
through  Colin's  head  as  he  sat  there.  This  boy  Olaf  then 
was  a  year  older  than  himself,  though  ever  so  much  smaller. 
But  he  seemed  very  brave  and  intelligent.  How  he  (Colin) 
would  like  to  run  over  to  Norway  with  Olaf  in  his  little 
yacht !  He  felt  sure  enough  that  his  uncle  would  allow  him 
to  do  so. 

"How  would  it  do,"  he  said  to  himself,  " to  take  Olaf 
up  home  with  me  to  the  Highlands  to  begin  with]  Yes,  I 


IN   BONNIE  GLEN   MOIRA.  41 

will  do  it.     Uncle  M'lvor  will  make  him  heartily  welcome. 
I  shall  write  about  it  this  very  evening." 

And  so  he  did,  and  we  shall  presently  see  what  came  of 
it. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IN   BONNIE   GLEN   MOIRA. 

COME,  my  laddie,  come  and  bring  your  new-found  friend. 
One  breath  of  our  mountain  air  will  do  him  more  good 
than  a  bottle  of  doctor's  physic." 

The  letter  altogether  was  not  a  long  one,  and  the  above 
short  sentence  gives  the  gist  of  it. 

Colin's  father  had  been  Laird  M'lvor's  favourite  brother. 
He  had  been  a  younger  brother,  and  like  a  good  many 
younger  brothers  among  the  upper  ten  of  Highland  society, 
had  chosen  to  go  on  the  war-path,  considering  it  far  more 
honourable  than  the  country  house  or  advocate's  office.  He 
had  married  when  still  young,  and  then  died  sword  in 
hand  fighting  the  Russians  on  a  blood-stained  hillside  in  the 
Crimea. 

Laird  M'lvor,  who  had  no  children  of  his  own,  gladly 
threw  his  doors  open  to  the  poor  young  widow  and  her 
child.  She  lived  many  years  in  this  Highland  home,  then 
"  wore  away  "  as  Scotch  people  expressively  put  it. 

Well,  if  Colin  had  been  spoiled,  as  some  said,  before 
his  poor  mother's  death,  he  was  spoiled  still  more  when 
that  gentle  lady  was  gone. 

But  I  do  not  like  the  expression  "spoiled"  applied  to 
any  hero  of  mine,  and  what  is  more,  I  won't  have  it.  Colin 
M'lvor,  I  say  boldly,  was  one  of  those  boys  whom  kindness 
will  not  spoil.  It  is  because  such  lads  have  sensitive  souls, 
and  because  in  those  souls  kindness  begets  gratitude  instead 
of  selfishness,  that  they  cannot  be  spoiled. 

A  boy  of  this  kind — would  that  there  were  more  of  them ! 


42          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

— is  worth  a  king's  ransom.  A  right-thinking  man  cannot 
behold  or  consider  such  a  boy  without  something  akin  to 
awe  and  reverence.  He  is  almost  fresh  from  the  hands  of 
his  Maker,  contact  with  a  sinful  and  deceitful  world  has 
not  yet  sullied  his  soul.  Perhaps  the  angels  that  guard  him 
shall  keep  him  pure  in  the  midst  of  sin,  perhaps  they  will 
cause  sin  to  be  abhorrent  to  him  instead  of  alluring  him,  so 
that  he  shall  grow  up  a  pure-minded,  brave,  justice-loving 
man,  and  men  like  this  are  indeed  the  salt  of  the  earth. 

No.  Colin  was  not  a  spoiled  boy  by  any  means,  and  yet, 
as  he  told  John  Jackson,  the  policeman,  on  that  night  he 
was  found  astride  of  the  gun,  everybody  permitted  him  to 
do  pretty  much  as  he  pleased. 

Young  M'lvor  had  been,  up  till  very  lately,  at  the  parish 
school  of  Glen  Albin. 

In  Highland  parishes  like  that  where  Laird  M'lvor  dwelt, 
the  parish  school  may  well  be  called  a  classical  school. 
There  may  be  two,  you  know — one  connected  with  the  Free 
Church,  the  other  with  the  Established  Church  of  Scotland, 
and  both  are  good.  It  was  to  the  latter  Colin  had  be- 
longed. The  teacher  was  a  hard-working,  most  industrious 
young  fellow  called  Stewart,  and  a  great  favourite  and  al- 
most constant  companion  of  the  minister  of  the  parish,  at 
whose  manse  he  frequently  dined.  And  Stewart  took  a 
very  great  interest  in  Colin.  He  had  him  learning  not  only 
Latin,  but  Greek,  before  he  was  nine  years  of  age,  so  that 
now  at  the  age  of  fifteen  this  boy  might  easily  have  entered 
the  university,  and  might  have  even  won  a  bursary.1 

Colin's  uncle  had  proposed  that  he  should  do  so.  The  lad 
had  looked  at  him  for  a  few  moments  in  silence,  but  rather 
sadly. 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  tol"  said  his  uncle. 

"I  was  thinking — 

"  Well,  think  away.  I'll  give  you  a  whole  night  to  think 
it  out." 

"  No,  no,  uncle.     I'll  do  it  now." 

"Well,  then,  wouldn't  you  like  a  'varsity  education  1" 

"  What  would  it  end  in  my  becoming?" 

i  A  scholarship  is  so  called  in  Scotland. 


IN  BONNIE  GLEN  MOIRA.  43 

"  0,  lots  of  fine  things  would  be  at  your  choosing  if  you 
stuck  to  your  studies." 

"Mention  some,  uncle." 

"  Well,  first  and  best  comes  the  church.  Just  think  what 
a  nice  position  that  is,  viewed  only  from  a  worldly  point  of 
view.  There  is  our  Mr.  Freeshol  here — by  the  by,  he's 
coming  to  dine  with  me  to-night — well,  look,  to  begin  with, 
at  the  fine  house  he  lives  in.  Why,  it  is  nearly  as  big  as 
mine.  Then  look  at  the  nice  gardens  all  round  it,  and  the 
lawns  and  shrubbery  in  front,  and  look  at  the  glebe  or 
farm,  all  free,  Colin,  all  free,  lad;  two  pairs  of  beautiful 
horses,  besides  cows  and  pigs,  and  fowls  and  ducks,  gabbling 
geese  all  in  a  row,  and  red-necked  turkeys.  And  all  the 
week  long  he  has  nothing  to  do  except  to  look  after  his 
belongings,  officiate  at  a  marriage  or  baptism,  or  pray  with 
a  dying  parishioner.  And  as  to  his  status  in  life,  why  a 
duke  hasn't  a  finer.  He  is  considered  fit  company  for  a 
king.  Why,  Colin,  when  Prince  Albert  came  here  and 
wanted  to  visit  the  Falls  of  Moira,  it  wasn't  me  he  called 
upon,  but  Mr.  Freeshol,  and  it  wasn't  with  me  he  dined,  no, 
it  was  with  the  minister. 

"  And  0,  Colin,  think  also  of  the  glory  a  minister  has  in 
winning  souls  to  Christ!" 

"Stop,  uncle,  stop;  that  is  just  it.  I'm  not  good  enough 
to  win  souls  to  Christ.  No,  no,  I  won't  be  a  minister;  any- 
thing else,  uncle." 

"  Any  other  career,  you  mean.  Lots,  lad.  There's  the 
law—" 

"0,  uncle,  I  wouldn't  be  a  lawyer  for  anything.  I've 
been  seeing  a  young  fellow  in  town  who  is  going  in  for  that, 
and  I  pitied  him.  Why,  our  old  turkey-gobbler  can  roost 
on  a  tree  and  get  fresh  air;  poor  Mr.  Thompson  can't.  A 
dingy,  dirty  office,  a  wooden  floor,  an  ink-stained  desk, 
musty  ledgers,  frowsy  parchments,  hard  words  to  write  and 
learn,  and  cobwebs.  Faugh!" 

"  Be  a  doctor,  then,  boy." 

"No,  uncle,  no;  I  couldn't  bear  to  live  always  among 
suffering,  sickness,  grief,  and  pain.  I  couldn't  physic  the 
cat,  and  when  Harry,  the  stable-boy,  lanced  our  game  cock's 


44  TO   GREENLAND   AND   THE   POLE. 

bumble-foot  I  suffered  far  more  than  the  cock  himself  did. 
I  couldn't  be  a  doctor.  If  I  didn't  make  mistakes  and  kill 
my  patients,  the  sight  of  my  patients'  sufferings  would  soon 
kill  me." 

"Well,  you  wouldn't  like  to  be  a  schoolmaster?" 

"No,  uncle,  I  should  lose  my  temper,  and  should  be 
whacking  away  all  day  long  with  cane  and  tawse.  There 
would  be  no  time  for  teaching.  Then  the  bigger  boys 
would  mutiny,  and  I  should  be  locked  up  all  night  in  the 
cellar  for  the  rats  to  eat;  there  would  be  nothing  left  of  me 
in  the  morning  except  my  knuckle  ends  and  the  soles  of  my 
boots.  No,  uncle,  I  believe  I  am  going  to  be  a  sailor,  and 
it  doesn't  need  a  'varsity  education  to  plough  the  sea." 

"  Well,  perhaps  I  shall  let  you  plough  the  sea  till  you  are 
twenty-one,  after  that — 

"After  that,  uncle1}" 

"Well,  you're  my  heir,  you  know,  and  I  shall  be  getting 
old,  and,  having  learned  to  plough  the  sea,  you  might  settle 
down  and  learn  to  plough  the  land." 

"  I'll  do  anything  for  you,  uncle,  only  don't  speak  about 
getting  old." 

From  the  above  conversation  I  hope  my  readers  will 
gather  that  Colin  was  anything  but  a  spoiled  child. 

On  the  day  Colin  M'lvor  received  that  letter  from  his 
uncle,  Olaf  was  unusually  bright.  He  was  allowed  to  get 
up  now  and  come  downstairs,  and  on  this  particular  fore- 
noon he  was  going  for  a  drive  with  Miss  Dewar.  She  was 
going  to  take  him  all  over  the  beautiful  Granite  City. 

She,  too,  had  received  a  letter  that  morning.  It  was 
from  Olaf 's  mother,  and  this  lady  was  profuse  in  her  thanks 
for  all  the  kindness  that  had  been  bestowed  upon  her  boy. 
She  had  not  been  told,  however,  how  very  narrow  his 
escape  from  death  had  been. 

"What  do  you  think,  Auntie  Dewar?"  said  Colin  at 
breakfast. 

"I  think  you  are  looking  unusually  happy  and  bright 
about  something,  and  I  think  I  should  like  to  know  what  it 
means  1 " 


IN   BONNIE  GLEN   MOIRA.  45 

*  It  means  this." 

He  handed  her  his  letter.  She  read  it  and  smiled,  and  at 
a  nod  from  Colin  gave  it  to  Olaf.  As  he  read  it  his  whole 
face  became  lighted  up  with  joy  and  animation. 

"  Is  it,"  he  said,  "  that  you  would  take  me  far  to  your 
beautiful  home  and  your  wild  Aberdeenshire  Highlands. 
0,  there  is  joy  in  my  heart.  I  will  write  Sigurd  not  to 
come  round  for  me  yet — not  for  a  few  days." 

"A  few  days!"  cried  Colin  laughing.  "Why,  a  Highland 
invitation  extends  over  weeks,  sometimes  over  months." 

Miss  .Dewar  drove  Olaf  to  see  all  the  lions  of  both  new 
and  old  towns;  the  chief  lions,  of  course,  being  the  univer- 
sities. Then  she  took  him  to  the  house  of  a  celebrated 
surgeon — Dr.  Pirrie,  to  wit.  This  gentleman  most  carefully 
examined  Olaf. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  mountain  air  will  do  him  much  good, 
and  he  cannot  have  too  much  of  it.  After  that  he  will  be 
fit  for  a  sea  voyage,  if  his  bent  lies  in  that  direction." 

He  himself — the  surgeon,  I  mean,  who  was  a  most 
gentlemanly  man — bowed  the  lady  to  her  carriage,  not  even 
permitting  her  servant  to  open  the  door  for  her. 

But  Olaf  had  another  surprise  that  forenoon  which  gave 
him  great  delight.  For,  as  the  carriage  stopped  for  a  few 
minutes  in  Castle  Street,  near  the  cross  (near  the  very  gun 
that  Colin  had  been  riding  when  "my  son  John"  found  him), 
the  very  identical  John  marched  up  and  saluted. 

Colin  bent  over  and  shook  hands  with  John. 

"  Would  the  young  gentlemen  come  into  the  office  for  a 
few  minutes'?" 

They  would  only  be  too  delighted  if  Miss  Dewar  would 
permit.  Miss  Dewar  would  not  only  permit,  but  would  go 
herself.  She  had  never  been  inside  a  police  office,  and  had 
feminine  curiosity  enough  to  wonder  what  such  an  office  was 
like. 

"My  son  John"  bowed  them  in,  and,  sitting  in  a  side 
room  at  a  desk,  they  found  a  very  tall,  well-made,  clean- 
shaven man,  who  looked  like  an  actor.  This  was  Tain 
Gibb.  He  got  up  and  bowed.  He  was  not  accustomed  to 
have  real  ladies  come  to  see  him. 


46          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"You  wanted  to  see  the  boys?"  said  Miss  Dewar. 

"  0,  yes,  madam.  This  watch — a  large  and  very  valuable 
gold  one,  you  will  observe — was  traced  by  Policeman 
Jackson,  that  young  man  in  the  doorway,  to  a  pawn-shop  up 
Broad  Street." 

"  0,"  cried  Olaf  with  sparkling  eyes,  "  it  is  mine.  It  is 
my  dear,  dead  father's  watch." 

"  I  am  happy  to  restore  it  to  you,"  said  Tarn  Gibb. 

"How  can  I  ever  thank  or  reward  you?"  began  Olaf. 

"  By  saying  nothing  about  it.  Duty  is  its  own  reward. 
Just  put  it  in  your  pooch,1  youngster,  and  take  my  advice: 
when  next  you  go  star-gazin'  on  the  Broad  Hill,  don't  put  a 
gold  watch  in  your  fob." 

As  he  left  the  office,  after  the  interview,  the  boy  Olaf 
paused  to  shake  hands  with  John  and  thank  and  praise  him 
for  his  cleverness.  Probably  Olaf's  thanks  assumed  a  solid 
form,  for  John's  hand  sought  his  pocket  after  shaking  that 
of  Olaf. 

As  far  as  farming  was  concerned,  probably  Grant  M'lvor 
of  Glen  Albin  was  neither  wiser  nor  cleverer  than  any  of  the 
other  farmers  who  dwelt  in  that  wild  and  romantic  valley. 
But  he  had  this  advantage,  the  land  he  farmed  was  his  own, 
to  hold  and  to  have  as  long  as  he  lived.  How  it  had  been 
called  a  glen  I  am  unable  to  conceive,  for  though  the  grand 
old  hills  and  mountains  were  everywhere  around  it,  they 
were  at  some  distance.  It  was,  therefore,  a  strath  or  vale, 
and  a  very  lovely  one  it  must  be  called.  Broad  green 
meadows,  waving  woods,  and  smiling  farms;  a  beautiful 
lake  in  the  centre  some  miles  in  extent,  and  many  a  wild 
pass  or  glen  proper  opening  into  it. 

Each  of  these  passes  brought  a  brawling  brown  streamlet 
to  feed  the  river  Uisge,  which,  after  leaving  the  lake  or 
loch,  went  meandering  gently  through  a  peat  morass  till  it 
reached  the  end  of  the  strath.  Then,  with  a  series  of  mad 
leaps  and  bounds,  called  cataracts  and  waterfalls,  it  rushed 
headlong  to  the  plains  below,  and  onward  then  through 
many  a  woodland  waving  green  till  it  fell  into  the  Dee  itself. 

i  Pocket. 


IN  BONNIE  GLEN   MOIRA.  47 

There  had  been  many  and  many  a  laird  at  Moira  before 
Grant  M'lvor,  and  to  some  considerable  extent  it  seemed 
that  each  had  exhibited  different  tastes,  as  far  as  architec- 
ture was  concerned.  And  perhaps  the  only  portion  of  the 
original  house  that  could  have  been  sworn  to  was  the  wide 
and  spacious  hall,  which  Grant  had  converted  into  a  billiard 
room,  and  where,  on  a  low  hearth,  a  roaring  fire  of  wood 
burned  nearly  all  the  year  round.  But  wing  after  wing  and 
gable  after  gable  had  been  added  on,  and  even  a  great 
square  tower.  This  last  was  very  old,  and  was  said  to 
harbour  a  ghost;  but  it  must  have  been  one  of  a  somewhat 
retiring  disposition,  for,  with  the  exception  of  old  Elspet, 
the  housekeeper,  and  old  Murdoch,  who  combined  the 
duties  of  butler  with  those  of  henchman-in-general,  nobody 
had  ever  seen  the  spirit  of  the  tower. 

Grant  M'lvor  had,  however,  been  content  to  let  the  house 
hang  as  it  had  grown.  He  confined  his  attentions  to  out- 
door work  and  beautification — gardens,  lawns,  walks,  and 
shrubberies,  were  his  chief  delight,  and  the  grand  old  brown- 
stemmed  pine-trees  that  elevated  their  heads  almost  as  high 
as  the  tower  itself. 

So,  on  the  whole  Moira  was  not  only  a  beautiful  but  a 
very  quaint  kind  of  a  mansion,  all  the  more  so  in  that  it 
occupied  a  position  on  a  terraced  height  at  the  head  of  the 
strath. 

Fifteen  miles  from  a  station.  That  did  not  signify  in  the 
least.  I  do  not  think  that  anyone  in  the  glen  ever  longed 
to  be  a  bit  nearer  to  the  roar  of  the  iron  wheels  and  the 
shriek  of  the  engine  whistle.  The  farmers  had  their  gigs 
and  their  dog-carts,  the  laird  had  carriages  to  drive  and 
horses  to  ride,  while  the  poorer  folks,  when  they  chose  to 
make  a  pilgrimage  from  home,  which  was  seldom,  drove 
their  own  pair,  the  same  that  Adam  and  Eve  made  use  of 
— their  legs. 

Had  Colin  been  coming  to  Moira  all  by  himself  he  would 
have  laughed  at  the  idea  of  his  uncle  sending  a  carriage  to 
the  railway  station  to  meet  him.  But  he  had  friends.  He 
had  not  only  Olaf,  who  was  now  nearly  well,  but  bold  Captain 
Junk  also.  Captain  Junk's  ship,  the  saucy  Blue  Peter,  was 


48          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

snug  in  Leith  harbour,  and,  knowing  that  he  could  trust  his 
mate,  the  skipper  had  given  himself  a  month's  holiday  till 
the  ship  should  be  loaded  up.  Colin  had  not  said  a  word  to 
his  uncle  about  his  intention  of  bringing  his  old  sailor  friend 
with  him. 

"  You'll  have  a  hearty  Highland  welcome,"  he  told  him, 
"  and  it  will  be  a  surprise  and  a  pleasant  one,  too,  for  my 
Uncle  M'lvor." 

Ah!  but  Uncle  M'lvor  had  prepared  a  surprise  for  the 
boys,  and  a  pleasant  one  it  was  certain  to  be,  as  far  as  Olaf 
was  concerned. 

When,  therefore,  the  carriage  drew  up  at  the  hall-door, 
after  a  drive  that  delighted  the  young  Norwegian  beyond 
measure,  so  different  were  those  crimson  heath-clad  hills 
and  braes  to  anything  he  had  ever  seen  in  his  own  country, 
the  second  person,  if  not  the  first,  to  bid  Olaf  welcome  was 
— his  own  mother. 

"  Why,  mother,  am  I  awake  or  am  I  dreaming1?" 

It  had  been  a  pretty  thought  this  of  the  old  laird's  to 
have  Olaf 's  mother  sent  for  in  order  to  meet  him.  And  I 
do  believe  that  her  companionship  did  almost  as  much  to 
restore  him  to  perfect  health  as  the  bracing  mountain  air 
itself.  Be  this  as  it  may,  Olaf  grew  stronger  every  day  and 
hour  almost,  and  was  soon  able  to  accompany  Colin  on  long 
delightful  fishing  excursions  on  the  loch  or  adown  the  river's 
banks. 

As  for  Uncle  Grant  and  Captain  Junk,  they  became  very 
much  engrossed  in  each  other  indeed.  They  were  constantly 
out-of-doors  together,  or  on  the  hills  with  their  guns,  and 
after  dinner  every  evening  in  company  with  Mrs.  M'lvor, 
the  laird's  wife,  and  Mrs.  Banna,  Olaf's  mother,  they 
enjoyed  a  delightful  rubber  at  whist.  The  boys  did  not 
think  the  evenings  long,  for,  when  they  were  tired  playing 
chequers  or  draughts,  they  could  read  to  each  other  or  talk. 

Olaf  had  travelled  quite  a  deal  in  his  own  country,  and 
Colin  was  never  tired  of  listening  to  his  stories  of  that  wild 
land,  where,  in  days  of  old,  the  Vikings  used  to  dwell. 

Olaf  was  an  excellent  tale-teller,  and,  being  slightly 
imbued  with  superstition,  he  could  give  full  lingual  force  to 


IN   BONNIE  GLEN  MOIRA.  49 

the  strange  traditions  that  hang  around  the  fjords,  and 
vales,  and  waterfalls,  as  the  morning  mists  hang  around 
the  mountain's  brow. 

Fishing  did  not,  however,  absorb  all  their  daylight  amuse- 
ments; and  I  do  not  think  that  boys  could  ever  weary  at  a 
country  house  where  there  were  ponies,  dogs,  and  other  live 
stock.  And  here  at  Moira  there  was  plenty  of  every  species 
of  domestic  animal  clad  in  hair,  in  feathers,  or  in  fur. 

There  was  one  Shetland  pony  who  was  undoubtedly  the 
daftest  little  scamp  ever  seen  in  the  strath.  There  was  no 
end  to  his  tricks  or  to  his  fun.  The  fact  is,  that  Colin  had 
had  the  training  of  him,  and  the  pony  would  run  after  him 
like  a  dog,  and,  with  the  dogs,  follow  him  afar  to  the  hills, 
and  so,  when  tired  of  walking,  he  could  ride  home.  Bare- 
back, however.  Frolic  didn't  mind  bridle  and  bit,  but  he 
vowed  he  would  never  be  saddled.  But  this  had  not  signified 
much  to  Colin,  who  had  a  good  knee-grip,  nor  did  it  signify 
much  to  Olaf,  whom  Frolic  graciously  permitted  to  ride 
him. 

Colin  often  rode  Frolic  right  into  the  great  hall  with  half 
a  dozen  dogs — collies,  deerhounds,  and  sky-terriers — at  his 
heels.  Round  and  round  the  billiard-table  the  wild  pack 
would  fly,  with  many  a  bark  and  whoop,  then  out  again,  and 
off  down  the  glen  like  the  wind  itself.  This  caper  always 
delighted  the  old  laird,  though  it  did  not  improve  the  floor 
of  the  hall,  but  then  Frolic  was  but  lightly  shod. 

This  daft  pony  used  sometimes  even  to  follow  Colin  into 
the  drawing-room.  But  here  he  never  behaved  wildly.  He 
seemed  overawed  by  all  the  bric-a-brac  he  saw  around  him, 
and  kept  on  his  company  manners. 

Moreover,  Colin  had  taught  this  pony  many  droll  tricks. 
He  had  taught  him  to  kneel  when  told ;  to  lift  his  feet  one 
at  a  time,  thus  executing  a  kind  of  dance,  and  to  neigh  when 
asked  to;  to  neigh,  or  perhaps  I  should  say  whinny.  Strangely 
enough,  he  would  do  any  of  his  common  tricks  for  a  slice  of 
carrot,  but  he  would  not  neigh  under  a  nut — a  Brazil  nut 
without  the  shell — and  he  must  see  it  first.  A  nut  or  nothing, 
that  was  Frolic's  motto. 

Olaf  was  a  naturalist  born,  so  he  took  great  pleasure  not 

(988)  D 


50  TO   GREENLAND  AND   THE  POLE. 

in  Frolic  only,  but  in  the  horses,  and  in  the  cattle.  There  was 
one  great  Highland  bull,  however,  who  inhabited  a  certain 
field  with  high  stone  walls  all  round,  that  Olaf  would  not 
venture  near.  He  was  a  bull  of  very  powerful  build,  though 
not  so  high  as  a  short-horn.  Jock  Towse,  as  he  was  called, 
was  a  long-horn.  Indeed,  his  horns  were  longer  than  your 
arms,  reader,  stretched  to  their  greatest  extent.  The  horns 
were  covered  as  to  their  points,  for  they  were  very  sharp,  in 
the  same  way  as  are  foils  used  in  fencing.  His  eyes  were 
red  and  fierce,  and  his  whole  body  covered  with  long  hair, 
which  on  his  face  and  brow  was  as  shaggy  as  that  of  a  skye- 
terrier. 

Colin  was  the  only  one  about  the  place,  bar  the  cow-boy 
and  the  laird  himself,  who  could  approach  Jock  Towse  with 
safety.  Jock  used  to  run  to  meet  Colin,  with  his  head  low 
to  the  ground  and  thundering  all  the  time  as  bulls  do.  But 
it  was  all  fun.  Colin  walked  to  meet  him,  and  Jock  was  so 
delighted  to  have  his  towsy  neck  scratched  and  his  ears 
pulled,  that  he  used  to  lick  Colin's  hand  and  even  his  neck. 

Then  Colin  would  say: 

"Down  head,  Jock  Towse." 

Immediately  the  great  bull  would  lower  his  nose  to  the 
ground. 

Colin  would  then  stand  right  between  the  horns  with  a 
hand  on  each.  Then  he  gave  the  next  command. 

"Lift,  Jock  Towse!" 

And  up  the  boy  went,  high  in  the  air. 

This  performance  was  repeated  about  a  score  of  times. 
After  which  Jock  received  a  huge  piece  of  bannock,1  which 
his  soul  loved,  and  Colin  kissed  him  on  the  muzzle  and 
retired. 

The  pigs  even  were  a  source  of  pleasure  to  Olaf,  and  he 
became  so  well  acquainted  with  the  breeding  sow,  that 
whenever  she  saw  him  she  used  to  throw  herself  down  on 
her  side  to  be  scratched  with  the  end  of  his  stick.  The 
languishing  look  in  her  almost  human-like  eyes,  and  the 
satisfied  grunts  she  emitted,  showed  how  much  she  appre- 
ciated Olaf  s  kindness. 

i  A  thick  oaten  cake  baked  on  a  griddle  or  iron  plate. 


IN   BONNIE   GLEN   MOIRA.  51 

I  need  not  say  how  much  the  boy  delighted  in  the  com- 
panionship of  the  dogs,  especially  the  collies. 

"  We  have  no  dogs  so  perfect  in  Norway,"  he  told  Colin, 
"  as  these  beautiful  creatures. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  added,  "  they  will  one  day  talk." 

The  barn -yards,  as  the  farm-buildings  were  called,  formed 
a  kind  of  square,  but  all  was  gravel  between;  not  a  dunghill 
like  badly-kept  farms  in  England.  Around  this  square  fowls 
and  feathered  stock  of  all  kinds  congregated  at  sunset  to 
receive  some  grain  before  going  to  roost.  They  would  even 
wait  up  till  after  gloaming  if  the  grain  were  not  sooner 
forthcoming.  Olaf  and  Colin  used,  however,  to  come  very 
regularly  each  with  a  bag.  If  they  were  from  home  the 
feeding  devolved  on  the  cow-boy  as  soon  as  the  fowls 
appeared  in  the  yard. 

Anyone  who  is  narrow-minded  enough  to  deny  to  our 
feathered  friends  either  common-sense  or  sagacity,  ought  to 
have  seen  that  waiting  and  expectant  mob  in  the  barn-yard 
square  of  Moira  mansion,  just  as  the  sun  was  going  down, 
his  beams  glimmering  red  through  the  dark  masses  of  the 
tall  pine-trees. 

There  they  all  waited,  to  the  number  of  about  two  hundred 
or  more,  and  anyone  brought  up  on  a  farm  might  be  excused 
if  he  imagined  that  he  actually  knew  what  they  said. 

Behold,  to-night  the  boys  are  somewhat  later  than  usual, 
and  the  hens  are  all  huddled  together  in  the  centre,  with 
drooping  tails,  discussing  the  situation  in  low  and  somewhat 
discontented  tones.  The  cocks  themselves,  whether  game, 
Dorking,  or  Cochin,  for  there  are  many  sorts,  were  all 
pugilistic  enough  by  day,  but  now  a  fellow-feeling  of  hunger 
makes  them  wondrous  kind,  and  there  is  not  an  atom  of 
fight  in  them.  Even  the  big  game  cock,  a  splendid  bird,  who 
could  kill  all  the  others  in  a  very  short  time,  one  by  one, 
stalks  around,  but  makes  no  attempt  at  assault  or  battery. 

"  He  won't  come  to-night,"  grumbles  an  old  hen. 

"  I'm  getting  my  death  of  cold,"  says  another. 

"  And  I'm  dying  of  sleep,"  cries  a  third. 

The  ducks  flank  the  crowd  of  hens.  They  are  nearly  all 
lying  down,  some  fast  asleep  with  heads  round  among  their 


52  TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

feathers.  Only  the  drakes  are  wide  enough  awake  and  on 
the  alert,  because  that  great  red-necked  gobbler  often  attacks 
the  ducks  from  sheer  wantonness,  while  the  drakes  defend 
the  squat  and  waddling  flock  by  viciously  pinching  the 
gobbler's  toes. 

The  hen  turkeys  now  look  as  discontented  and  disconsolate 
as  the  female  barn-door  fowls,  only  the  restless  geese  and 
gander  strut  round  at  a  distance,  making  echoes  ring  every 
now  and  then  with  their  everlasting  song  of  "  Kay-ink  !— 
kay-ink ! — kay-ink ! " 

The  sun  sinks  lower  and  lower,  and  finally  disappears, 
though  the  glorious  clouds  he  leaves  behind  are  still  reflected 
from  the  dark  bosom  of  the  loch  in  broad  patches  of  crimson, 
bronze,  and  gold.  But,  listen !  there  are  footsteps  heard  be- 
yond the  square,  and  the  voices  of  the  boys  themselves  in 
laughing  conversation. 

They  come!  they  come! 

"  Now  is  the  winter  of  our  discontent, 
Made  glorious  summer  by  this  sun  of  York." 

What  a  change  comes  o'er  the  spirit  of  the  dream  of  that 
feathered  multitude!  Every  head  and  every  tail  is  erect 
in  a  moment.  The  ducks  spring  to  their  big  flat  feet. 
"  Qua— ack,  quack,  quack,  quack,"  they  cry. 

"Kay — ink!  kay — ink!"  shriek  the  geese,  coming  with  a 
rush,  which,  with  their  outspread  wings  almost  resembles  a 
flight. 

"  Habb — a — bubb — a — bubb — a — bub!"  screams  the  gob- 
bler as  he  and  his  turkey  hens  run  next. 

The  barn-door  fowls  are  there  already. 

And  now  Colin  and  Olaf  stand  in  the  very  centre  of  a 
feathered  lake,  and  from  their  canvas  bags,  in  every  direc- 
tion of  the  compass  they  shower  the  golden  grain,  while  the 
noise,  and  the  fighting,  and  scrambling  make  up  a  scene 
that  it  is  impossible  to  describe. 

But  the  last  handful  has  been  thrown,  and  now  the  birds 
retire  to  their  roosts  or  beds,  and  soon  all  is  peace  and 
quiet. 

Then  Colin  whistles  a  peculiar  whistle,  and  down  from  a 


A  FALL  OVER  A  CLIFF.  53 

tree  that  grows  near  to  the  corner  of  the  square  floats  a 
beautiful  bird.  It  is  the  pet  peacock.  He  roosts  up  there  of 
a  night  to  save  the  splendour  of  his  tail  from  defilement. 
And  Colin  finds  a  handful  of  pearl  barley  for  him.  He  picks 
this  out  of  the  boy's  hand;  then,  after  strutting  around  for 
a  short  time  with  tail  erect,  he  nods  his  head,  as  if  saying 
good-night,  and  flies  lazily  back  to  his  roost. 


CHAPTER  V. 

A   FALL   OVER   A   CLIFF. 

A  UTUMN  has  gone. 

J\_  The  days  are  getting  short  and  shorter  now.  The 
crimson  glory  of  the  hill  and  brae  has  faded  into  dull  browns 
and  bronzes.  The  farmers'  fields  are  all  bare  and  bleak; 
from  the  higher  mountain  tracks  the  shepherds  have  brought 
down  their  sheep,  that  they  may  feed  upon  the  stubble  or 
the  herbage  in  the  strath.  The  loch  now  oftentimes  assumes 
a  gray  and  leaden  hue  even  at  midday,  and  the  river  that 
flows  into  it  is  oftentimes  a  brown  and  raging  torrent,  bring- 
ing down  in  its  foaming  tide  branches  of  trees,  logs  of  wood, 
heathy  turfs,  and  even  boulders  of  stone.  The  river  that 
flows  from  the  loch  is  sometimes  now  a  river  indeed,  and 
one,  too,  that  sets  at  defiance  the  boundaries  that  man  has 
put  to  it,  and,  escaping  from  its  bed,  overflows  the  fields  and 
moorland.  Yet  it  seems  overjoyed  when  it  reaches  the  end 
of  the  strath  and  plunges  madly  over  the  rocks.  Here  in 
summer  there  were  four  or  five  small  waterfalls,  for  every 
ledge  of  rock  formed  a  linn  or  cataract.  But  now  all  those 
little  waterfalls  have  become  one  great  waterfall,  and  while 
the  roar,  the  noise,  and  turmoil  are  appalling,  and  can  be 
heard  by  night  for  many  a  mile  away,  the  force  of  the  water 
seems  to  shake  the  very  hills  around,  and  the  lofty  pine-trees 
quiver  and  nod  in  the  forest  near  the  banks  of  that  raging 
torrent. 


54  TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

The  higher  mountains  are  now  white  with  snow  or  frost 
nearly  all  day  long;  the  pine-trees  that  essay  to  scale  their 
sides  look  very  black  against  the  rocks.  High  up  there  the 
ptarmigan  may  still  be  found,  but  he  and  the  alpine  hare 
are  now  assuming  their  winter's  coats.  They  will  soon  be 
dressed  in  white.  Lower  down  the  cosy  coneys  still  frisk 
and  play  among  the  stones  and  boulders,  but  from  the  glen 
itself  the  song-birds,  with  few  exceptions,  have  long  since 
flown  away. 

The  trees  near  Grant  M 'Ivor's  ancestral  home  harbour 
a  rookery  of  which  the  laird  is  justly  proud.  The  crows  or 
larks  are  still  there  and  noisy  enough  at  times,  and  every 
evening  food  is  placed  for  them  where  they  can  find  it  at 
early  morn. 

Colin  and  01  af  were  still  both  together  at  Glen  Moira,  but 
instead  of  lamenting  for  the  decay  of  nature  and  the  dying 
year,  they  were  both  longing  for  snow  time.  They  were 
going  to  have  great  doings  this  winter;  snow  time  was  going 
to  be  for  them  glow  time,  else  they  should  know  the  reason 
why. 

Somehow,  I  ought  to  tell  you  that  Colin  and  Olaf  had 
taken  very  much  to  each  other.  They  had  become  the 
fastest  friends  in  the  world.  When,  about  a  month  before 
this,  Olaf's  mother  had  gone  back  to  Inverness,  Colin  begged 
so  hard  of  her  that  Olaf  might  be  left  behind,  his  uncle 
supporting  his  pleading  and  plea,  that  Mrs.  Banna  had 
been  fain  to  give  in. 

"But  I  fear,"  she  had  said,  "that  you  will  find  him  a 
trouble  after  a  while.  Your  hospitality  is  really  very 
great." 

Grant  M'lvor  laughed. 

"Our  hospitality,"  he  replied,  "if  properly  analysed, 
would  be  found,  I  believe,  to  have  a  somewhat  selfish 
foundation.  Why,  my  dear  Mrs.  Banna,  we  all  positively 
love  your  lad.  But  looking  at  the  matter  from  another 
point  of  view,  just  note  the  improvement  in  his  health  that 
has  taken  place  of  late,  all  the  result  of  our  pure  mountain 
air,  believe  me,  and  nothing  else." 

Well,  and  as  to  Uncle  Tom — Captain  Junk,  you  know— 


A  FALL  OVER  A  CLIFF.  55 

he  had  gone  away  long  ago,  and  many  months  would  pass 
before  the  Blue  Peter  sailed  once  more  into  the  Firth  of 
Forth.  He  had  gone  down  the  Mediterranean  to  Malta,  to 
Alexandria,  to  Constantinople,  and  Greece,  and  might  pos- 
sibly— so  he  had  told  the  boys — "take  a  turn"  round  to 
Madeira. 

Had  chance  not  thrown  him  into  the  company  of  Olaf 
Ranna,  it  is  possible  that  Colin  might  have  expressed  a 
wish  to  go  a  voyage  with  Captain  Junk.  For  he  loved  the 
sea  just  as  many  boys  love  it,  who  have  never  been  on  blue 
water  in  their  lives;  he  loved  it  from  reading  about  it  in 
books.  Well,  to  be  sure,  he  had  been  once  or  twice  as 
far  as  Leith  in  a  steamboat,  and  once  to  Inverness,  but 
there  is  no  blue  water,  as  sailors  understand  it,  until  you 
get  out  and  away  far  on  the  bosom  of  the  wide  Atlantic 
Ocean. 

But  Olaf  had  in  some  measure  changed  Colin's  inclina- 
tions. He  still  loved  the  sea  in  a  dreamy,  poetic  kind  of  a 
way,  but  it  was  not  so  much  the  blue  and  sunny  seas  of 
southern  climes,  as  the  wild  dark  ocean  that  stretches  from 
the  islands  of  Shetland  to  the  mysterious  regions  of  ice  and 
snow  that  surround  the  pole. 

All  the  stories  that  Sigurd  had  told  Olaf  by  the  fireside 
of  his  Norwegian  home  in  the  long  fore-nights  of  winter,  Olaf 
retailed  to  Colin,  and  it  is  needless  to  say  that  they  lost 
nothing  by  the  repetition. 

"  In  October,"  said  Olaf  to  his  friend  one  day,  "our  winter 
begins  in  Norseland.  And  yours1?" 

There  was  at  one  corner  of  the  barn-yard  square  a  small 
room  devoted  to  carpenter's  work,  and  which  also  could 
boast  of  a  good  turning-lathe.  Here,  when  alone,  Colin 
had  whiled  many  an  hour  away,  and  especially  in  wet 
weather,  when  there  was  small  encouragement  to  betake 
himself  to  the  hills  or  forest,  to  the  riverside  or  to  the 
loch. 

The  two  lads  were  in  that  room  when  Olaf  put  the  ques- 
tion. The  day  was  somewhat  dark  and  gloomy,  and  the 
rain  every  now  and  then  beat  and  rattled  against  the  panes 
of  glass.  When  they  stood  in  the  doorway  and  looked  away 


56  TO   GREENLAND   AND   THE   POLE. 

across  the  marshy  valley,  they  could  see  sheet-like  showers 
borne  along  the  mountain  sides  by  the  fierce  gusts  of  an 
easterly  gale,  while  the  loch  itself,  across  which  clouds  were 
ever  and  anon  being  driven,  was  all  a-smother  with  foam 
and  spray. 

"Our  winter?"  replied  Colin,  pointing  to  the  hills  and 
then  to  the  wind-tortured  pine  trees  in  the  forest  above 
them.  "  Our  winter?  Do  you  not  think  that  that  is  a  fair 
sample  of  wintry  weather?" 

"0,  no,  no;  I  would  call  that  but  the  herald  of  winter. 
I  would  see  the  snow  on  your  plains,  I  would  see  the 
branches  of  the  larch  and  the  spruce  borne  groundwards 
with  the  burden  thereof,  I  would  see  all  the  land  white,  the 
cataracts  solid,  and  a  mantle  of  ice  and  snow  thrown  over 
your  chafing  lake  yonder." 

"  Ah,  Olaf,  you  talk  like  a  book  or  a  bard !  My  English 
is  unhappily  more  humble  and  matter  of  fact,  but  I  think  I 
can  answer  your  question.  Winter,  then,  is  often  ushered 
in  by  wild  gales  of  wind  like  that  which  is  blowing  to-day. 
It  may  be  that  in  a  short  week's  time  you  may  see  more 
snow  than  you  would  care  to  face." 

"I  am  glad." 

"It  is  delightful  to  be  out  in  it,  Olaf,  when  the  sun 
shines  bright  and  clear,  when  the  sky  is  cloudless  and  blue, 
and  the  frost  hard,  and  when  there  isn't  enough  wind  to 
blow  one  snowflake  on  top  of  the  other;  but  when  a  bliz- 
zard comes  on — ah!  then." 

"Yes,  yes,"  cried  Olaf  with  animation.  "Tell  me,  tell 
me.  Oh,  it  is  that  I  love  to  hear  of  this." 

Colin  laughed  at  his  companion's  enthusiasm. 

"I  can't  tell  you,"  he  said;  "it  needs  poetic  powers  to 
describe  a  Highland  snow  blizzard." 

"But  you  have  been  out  in  one?" 

"  Yes,  worse  luck,  and  wished  myself  anywhere  else. 
High  banks  of  snow  across  the  road,  Olaf,  that  no  mortal 
could  get  over,  a  wind  that  cuts  one  like  a  knife,  that  pene- 
trates through  the  thickest  plaid,  and  seems  to  freeze  the 
very  marrow  in  one's  bones ;  a  wind,  too,  that  is  more  than 
a  wind,  for  it  is  everywhere  filled  with  clouds  of  whirling 


A  FALL  OVER  A  CLIFF.  57 

snow — snow  in  which  every  flake  is  reduced  to  icy  powder, 
snow  that  is  falling  from  clouds  which  are  so  low  to  the 
earth  that  a  shepherd  might  stir  them  with  his  crook,  snow 
whirled  from  off  the  forest  trees  and  the  bushes,  snow 
caught  up  from  the  ground,  snow  that  blinds  you,  that 
chokes  your  breath  away,  as  if  a  cold  snake  were  round 
your  throat;  snow  that  stupefies  you  till  you  totter  and  fall 
and  have  no  wish  to  rise  again,  only  to  go  to  sleep,  and 
wake — no  more." 

"Who  is  the  bard  now?  Aha!  Colin,  you  only  need  a 
harp  and  long  white  hair.  But,  come,  you  give  me  hope — 
the  snow  will  soon  be  here." 

Olaf  picked  up  a  long  piece  of  wood  as  he  spoke  and  laid 
it  on  the  bench.  It  was  the  stem  of  a  birch  tree. 

Olaf  struck  it  critically  with  a  little  hammer. 

"Is  it  well  seasoned?"  he  inquired. 

"Fairly  well  seasoned  and  tough." 

"Ah!  that  is  it.     Good!" 

"But  what  are  you  going  to  make?  A  boat  model?" 
asked  Colin. 

"  Oh,  no,  a  ski  (pronounced  she). 

"  A  she?     What  on  earth  is  a  shel" 

"'Tis  a  kind  of  snow-shoe  or  snow-skate  on  which  you 
and  I — for  I  shall  teach  you  the  mysteries  and  delights  of 
skilobning,  and  you  shall  love  it  as  much  as  I — will  make 
many  expeditions  on  the  hills  and  valleys  of  your  beautiful 
country." 

"Well,  go  on;  I  am  all  attention.  You  have  excited  my 
curiosity." 

"Oh,  but  I  am  not  going  to  talk,  I  am  going  to  work. 
Luckily  you  have  all  kinds  of  good  tools  here.  I  shall  soon 
make  my  skier"  (she-er).1 

"  Whatever  a  man  dares  he  can  do,"  said  Colin. 

"You  have  plenty  more  wood?" 

"Plenty  of  oak.     Not  much  more  seasoned  birch.' 

The  birch-wood,  which  Olaf  had  already  begun  to  mani- 
pulate, was  at  once  thrown  down. 

"  Well,"  he  cried,  "produce  it.     The  work  will  be  harder, 

i  A  pair  of  ski. 


58          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

but  the  ski  will  be  the  better,  though,  for  my  own  part,  I 
love  the  birch  with  very  thin  slips  of  iron  underneath  to 
make  the  ski  glide  still  more  easily." 

Colin  soon  produced  the  oak. 

"  Well,"  he  said  as  he  did  so,  "  you  will  soon  make  me  a 
Norwegian  altogether.  I  believe  you  have  already  taught 
me  so  much  of  your  language — so  very  like  broad  Scotch  it 
is — that  I  want  to  get  away  over  to  your  wild  land  to  air 
it." 

"  You  shall  have  plenty  of  opportunities.  We  have  only 
to  wait  a  little.  But  first  you  must  be  a  good  skilober." 

"  She-lover?  No,  Olaf,  I  don't  care  a  bit  for  girls.  They 
are  all  right  indoors,  but  on  the  hills  or  in  the  forest  they 
are  a  drag.  I  would  rather  have  a  good  dog  any  day." 

"  Ah !  you  joke.  A  skilober  is  one  who  runs  or  glides  on 
snow-shoes.  And — but  I  am  talking  and  trifling." 

Olaf  now  set   himself   seriously  to  work   to  make  his 


Much  though  I  should  like  to  tell  you  how  he  made, 
fashioned,  or  formed  them,  I  fear  that  any  attempt  to  do  so 
in  words  or  on  paper  would  only  end  in  failure.  Yet  so 
delightful  is  the  exercise  obtainable  by  means  of  these  skier 
that  I  would  like  very  much  to  hear  of  their  being  intro- 
duced into  this  country  as  a  means  of  winter  sport. 

In  England,  even,  there  is  usually  a  considerable  deal  of 
snow  in  the  season,  and  in  Scotland  always.  Skilobning 
is  not  so  very  difficult  to  learn  after  all.  In  the  country 
districts  of  Norway  the  children  as  soon  as  they  are  able  to 
toddle  learn  the  art  of  skilobning -}  but  Nansen  tells  us  of  a 
party  of  rustics  who  arrived  in  a  town  in  Norway,  the 
inhabitants  of  which  had  hardly  ever  seen  a  ski.  These  men 
gave  many  displays  of  their  skill,  and  the  sport  "caught 
on",  as  the  Yankees  say.  Well,  skilobning  became  so  fash- 
ionable that  boys  and  girls,  men  and  women  took  to  it,  and 
became  so  proficient  that  in  a  year's  time — I  think  it  was  a 
year — they  challenged  and  beat  the  very  team  that  had  first 
introduced  the  sport  to  them. 

I  shall  not  be  in  the  least  surprised  if,  therefore,  in  a  few 
years'  time,  skilobning  becomes  fashionable  in  this  country, 


A  FALL  OVER  A  CLIFF.  59 

which,  if  not  the  cradle-land  of  all  healthful  outdoor  games 
and  exercises,  is  at  least  their  nursery  or  home. 

There  are  several  varieties  of  skier  used  in  Norway. 

The  ski  I  figure  here  (vide  fig.  1)  is  a  plan  of  that  used  by 
Nansen  in  his  first  crossing  of  Greenland.  It  is  not  precisely 
the  same  as  that  made  by  Olaf  with  Colin's  slight  assistance, 
but  it  will  give  the  reader  a  very  fair  notion  of  the  general  for- 
mation of  a  good  oak  ski  capable  of  sustaining  plenty  of  work. 

Each  ski,  then,  was  about  seven  and  a  half  feet  long  and 
nearly  four  inches  broad,  just  a  trifle  broader  in  front  than 
right  under  foot  or  behind.  You  will  .note  that  on  the  upper 

A O 

<^  •' - I   CT^IF^1  :•          ) 


FIG    I 


FIG    2 

surface  a  kind  of  ridge  runs  right  along  from  stem  to  stern. 
This  gives  strength  and  a  certain  amount  of  rigidity.  I  have 
not  figured  the  under  surface  of  the  ski,  but  I  should  tell 
you  that  it  is  not  perfectly  plain,  but  has  three  tiny  grooves, 
the  centre  one  under  the  ridge,  then  one  at  each  side. 
These  grooves  are  not  more  than  about  f  of  an  inch  wide 
and  very  shallow.  At  A  in  fig.  1  you  see  the  leather  band 
into  which  the  foot  fits,  and  the  strap  and  buckle — B — 
better  seen  in  fig.  2,  which  goes  round  the  heel  of  the  boot 
and  keeps  the  foot  in  position. 

The  heel-strap  may  be  of  softish  leather,  or  it  may  be 
made  of  cane  or  withy-work. 

This  description  of  the  Norway  snow-shoe,  I  admit,  is  but 
a  meagre  one,  and  I  confess  also  that  it  is  written  or  given 
somewhat  half-heartedly,  because  I  am  impressed  with  the 
belief  that  no  youth,  unless  he  has  a  pattern,  will  be  able 
to  make  a  good  ski  for  himself. 

But  Olaf  Kanna  could  have  made  a  ski  blindfolded,  and 
indeed  many  blind  men  in  Norway  do  make  these  snow- 


60          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

shoes,  and  make  them  well  too,  just  as  in  this  country  blind 
people  make  baskets. 

Olaf,  however,  believed  that  nothing  could  be  done  well 
in  a  hurry,  so  that  he  took  great  pains  in  the  cutting  out  of 
his  skier.  When  at  work  he  was  wholly  engrossed,  and 
Colin  could  hardly  get  a  word  out  of  him,  so  that  he  had 
often  to  fall  back  upon  the  clogs  for  amusement.  They  were 
always  ready  for  a  romp. 

After  Olaf  had  finished  one  pair  of  shoes,  he  handed  them 
over  to  Colin,  to  be  nicely  smoothed,  oiled,  and  polished. 
Elbow-grease  and  oil  are  two  fine  things  to  perfect  either  a 
bat  or  a  snow-shoe. 

A  whole  week  passed  away.  It  was  now  nearly  the  middle 
of  November,  but  winter,  real  winter,  had  not  yet  arrived. 
Then  came  a  new  moon.  I  am  not  going  to  say  that  the 
new  moon  brought  clear  weather  or  a  change  of  wind.  But, 
nevertheless,  one  night  a  scimitar  of  a  moon  hung  over  the 
hills  in  the  west,  in  a  sky  as  clear  and  pure  as  one  could 
wish  it,  while  the  little  wind  there  was  blew  from  the  nor'- 
nor'-west.  There  were  mountain-like  clouds — called  cumulus 
by  scientists — lying  along  the  horizon.  They  were  snow- 
white,  and  old  Elspet,  who  was  a  reputed  witch  as  far  as 
the  weather  was  concerned,  asserted  boldly  that  there  would 
soon  be  frost  and  snow,  and  neither  bite  nor  blade  for  bird 
or  sheep. 

Ever  and  anon  one  of  those  clouds  would  start  on  a  voyage 
of  adventure,  apparently  with  the  intention  of  blotting  out 
the  moon;  but  small  though  the  moon  was,  it  made  short 
work  with  these  clouds. 

Meanwhile  the  glass  went  down,  and  next  day  the  Laird 
gave  orders  that  the  sheep  should  be  driven  up  from  the 
haughs1  and  brought  near  to  the  home  farm,  where  they 
could  have  turnips  to  eat,  and  so  be  able  to  defy  the  worst 
that  might  come. 

Olaf's  skier  were  finished,  and  no  boy  ever  looked  more 
pleased  than  he.  Only  his  face  grew  gloomy  again  when  he 
looked  at  the  hills,  and  wondered  when  the  snow  would  fall. 

"  We  have  only  to  wait  a  wee,"  said  Colin,  smiling  at  hi? 

1  The  low  lauds  adjoining  the  river. 


A  FALL   OVER  A  CLIFF.  61 

friend's  impatience.  "Elspet  is  wondrously  weather-wise, 
and  says  it  is  coming — and  soon  too." 

Elspet  was  right.  It  seemed  as  though  the  clerk  of  the 
weather  had  only  been  waiting  until  Olaf  had  finished  his 
skier  to  treat  the  country  to  a  downfall. 

The  snow-storm,  however,  was  not  of  long  duration ;  nor 
did  it  blow  and  drift  much,  except  away  up  among  the  higher 
reaches  of  the  mountains,  where  there  is  nearly  always  a 
breeze  even  while  it  is  perfectly  calm  in  the  straths  and 
glens  below. 

"Now  for  the  rejoicement!"  cried  Olaf,  who,  it  must  be 
confessed,  made  use  of  some  strange  words  and  expressions 
when  in  any  way  excited.  "Now  for  the  rejoicement!" 

There  was  little  to  be  done,  however,  for  on  the  first  and 
second  days  the  snow  was  altogether  too  fine.  Moreover, 
the  snow  fell  so  fast  that  it  was  impossible  for  Olaf,  although 
he  put  on  the  skier,  to  see  where  he  was  skidding  to.  Colin 
did  not  venture  to  put  on  his.  But  he  ran  out  with  his 
friend.  He  kept  alongside  for  some  time  on  level  road,  for 
Colin  was  somewhat  of  an  athlete. 

By  and  by,  however,  they  came  to  a  down-hill  or  inclined 
plane,  and  Olaf  shot  ahead  in  a  way  that  certainly  was 
somewhat  foolhardy,  considering  that  he  was  in  an  unknown 
land. 

Colin  followed  on  in  his  trail,  a  double  trail  it  was  for 
fully  half  a  mile,  and  then,  lo  and  behold,  the  trail  sud- 
denly disappeared !  It  disappeared,  to  Colin's  horror,  close 
to  the  brink  of  an  ugly  precipice.  Well,  Olaf  had  often  told 
him  that  skilobers  in  his  country  thought  nothing  of  leaping 
over  considerable  embankments,  and  alighting  safe  and  sound 
in  the  snow  beneath.  But  surely  his  friend  would  not  be 
mad  enough  to  venture  a  leap  over  a  precipice  of  unknown 
height.  No.  The  probability  was  that  he  had  met  with  an 
accident. 

Colin  shouted  again  and  again.  There  was  no  response, 
and  then  his  heart  began  to  beat  high  with  fear. 

Once  again  he  shouted.  Then  listened.  And  this  time 
from  up  the  valley,  faint  and  far,  there  sounded  a  kind  of  echo. 


62          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"Olaf!  O— 0— 0— la— f!"  cried  Colin  again  and  again, 
prolonging  the  first  letter  and  raising  the  last  syllable  to  the 
highest  key  he  could  compass. 

"Coo — ee — !"  came  back  through  the  blinding  snow-mist, 
for  the  flakes  were  falling  faster  than  ever. 

In  about  five  minutes'  time  a  collie  dog  ran  up  to  him,  his 
coat  so  full  of  snow  that  he  looked  like  a  little  white  bear. 
Then,  leaning  heavily  on  his  tall  crook,  a  man  appeared, 
rolled  and  muffled  in  a  Highland  plaid  of  the  M'lvor  tartan. 

"O  Duncan,  is  it  you?" 

"  It's  shuist  her  nainsel'  and  nopoddy  else,  Maister  Colin." 

"Was  it  you  who  shouted  in  reply  to  me?" 

"  Shuist  my  nainsel'  and  nopoddy  else." 

"  0,  Duncan,  I'm  all  in  a  lather  of  perspiration  with  per- 
fect fear.  Look,  Duncan,  at  these  marks.  My  dear  friend 
Olaf  was  trying  the  snow-shoes,  and  has  gone  over  the 
precipice.  He  is  down  there  now,  Duncan,  down  there — 
dead,  else  he  would  have  answered." 

"Pooh!"  said  Duncan;  "what  for  should  ye  be  after 
makin'  the  big  baby  of  yoursel'  ?  Duncan  will  shuist  dig 
the  laddie  oot.  Och!  many  and  many  is  the  sheepie  she 
has  dug  oot  afore  noo.  Come,  Colin,  else  indeed,  indeed  it 
is  smotherin'  in  earnest  the  bit  of  a  boy  may  be." 

"  Wowff?  wowff?"  barked  Collie  inquiringly. 

A  dog  can  express  quite  a  deal  even  by  means  of  a  bark, 
and  if  that  "wowff"  did  not  say  to  the  shepherd,  "Any- 
thing I  can  do,  good  master?" — then  I  have  never  heard  a 
dog  talk. 

Duncan  addressed  him  in  a  few  words  of  Gaelic,  that 
most  expressive  of  all  European  languages,  at  the  same  time 
pointing  first  to  the  ski  marks,  then  over  the  precipice. 

The  dog  snuffed  for  a  moment  at  the  latter. 

"Wowff!"  he  barked  again,  throwing  back  his  head,  as 
much  as  to  say,  "1  have  it,  and  now  I'm  off." 

And  off  he  ran,  Duncan  and  Colin  following. 

In  a  very  short  time  they  were  both  down  the  hill  to  the 
left,  and,  following  the  dog's  track,  soon  found  themselves 
at  the  foot  of  the  precipice.  It  was  forty  feet  high  at  the 
very  least,  but  luckily  it  was  clean  cut.  Had  there  been  on 


A  WILD  JOURNEY.  63 

it  any  projecting  ledges,  ten  to  one  Olaf  would  have  been 
dashed  to  pieces. 

They  found  the  dog  hard  at  work  tearing  up  the  snow  with 
his  fore-paws  and  giving  many  a  little  whining  bark,  which 
told  plainly  that  he  was  on  the  right  scent.  And  so  he  was. 
Duncan  and  Colin  both  now  helped  him  to  drag  away  the 
snow.  Ere  long  they  found  something  hard  and  dark  stick- 
ing up. 

"It  is  the  ski"  cried  Colin,  working  faster  than  ever. 
And  now  they  have  reached  the  body  and  drag  it  out. 

Drag  it  out  ?  Have  they  found  a  corpse,  then  ?  How  cold 
Olaf  is !  How  pale  the  face  and  blue  the  lips,  and  no  pulse  can 
be  felt  at  the  wrist ! 


CHAPTEE  VI. 

A    WILD    JOURNEY. 

ODO  you  think  he  is  dead,  Duncan?" 
"  I  wouldn't  wonder  at  all,  at  all,  whatefer.    But,  bless 
you,  Maister  Colin,  many  is  the  sheepie  I've  brought  to  life 
afore  now." 

As  he  spoke  Duncan  was  by  no  means  idle.  He  had 
divested  himself  not  only  of  his  big  warm  plaid,  but  of  his 
thick  coat  as  well.  It  had  luckily  ceased  for  a  while  to 
snow.  Then  on  this  comfortable,  extempore  bed  Olaf  was 
laid;  the  skier  were  taken  off,  then  the  boots  and  stockings; 
and  while  the  shepherd  applied  vigorous  friction  with  snow 
to  feet  and  legs,  Colin  did  the  same  as  regards  hands  and 
wrists. 

For  a  time  there  were  no  signs  of  life.  Then  there  was  a 
slight  sigh. 

"  She  is  no  dead  yet,"  cried  Duncan  joyfully. 

"Wowff,  wowff  1"  barked  Collie,  and  began  to  apply  his 
warm  tongue  vigorously  to  the  lad's  cold  cheek  and  ears. 

Then  Olaf  gasped,  and  presently  his  eyes  opened. 

"May  the  Lord's  name  be  praised!"  cried  Duncan. 


64          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

This  he  well  might  say,  for  Olaf  now  sat  up  and  smiled. 

Duncan  had  placed  the  stockings  in  his  own  bosom  to 
keep  them  warm,  and  he  now  drew  them  on. 

"  Shuist  a  wee  thochtie  o'  a  dram  now,"  said  Duncan.  He 
pulled  out  a  flask  of  whisky  and  applied  it  to  Olaf  s  lips. 

"No,  no,"  said  the  boy.  "I  am  a  Good  Templar,  and  I 
mustn't." 

"  Shure  if  it  was  fifty  Templars  rolled  into  ono  you  was, 
you  would  have  to  take  it,  my  lad.  Shuist  if  you'll  not  be 
takin'  it  I'll  throw  it  in  your  face.  Her  nainsel'  is  your 
doctor,  and  the  dram  is  the  medicine  evermore." 

Then  Olaf  drank  several  mouthfuls. 

In  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  he  was  able  to  walk. 
But  he  did  not  put  on  the  skier  again  that  day.  He  con- 
fessed to  feeling  a  little  stiff  the  same  evening  at  dinner, 
and  Grant  M'lvor  said  it  was  no  wonder;  that  if  he  must 
practise  leaping  over  cliffs,  a  forty-feet  jump  was  somewhat 
risky  for  the  first  day's  practice. 

Next  morning  Olaf  was  stiffer  than  before.  But  the  snow 
still  fell.  So  far  as  skilobning  was  concerned  he  lost  but  little. 

Early  that  evening  the  sky  cleared,  and  at  sunset  near 
the  horizon  it  was  of  a  deep  sea-green,  merging  into  pale 
blue  above.  In  that  sea-green  sky  the  evening  star  shone 
with  a  refulgence  that  the  strange  colour  around  it  rendered 
ineffably  sweet.  There  was  not  a  breath  of  wind,  nor  was 
there  next  day. 

Olaf's  cure  for  his  stiffness — a  cure  suggested  by  Colin 
himself  —  was  one  that  some  of  my  readers  may  think 
strange,  but  after  a  hard  day's  sport  or  walking,  I  can  assure 
them  it  often  acts  like  a  charm.  Old  Elspet  brought  up  a 
pailful  of  snow,  and  this  was  placed  in  his  bath.  Then  Olaf 
plied  the  big  sponge  with  vigour,  and  after  rubbing  hard 
for  many  minutes  with  rough  towels,  a  little  oil  was  well 
worked  into  limbs  and  joints. 

No  Viking  ever  ate  a  heartier  breakfast  than  did  Colin 
and  Olaf  that  morning,  and  just  as  they  were  leaving  to  try 
their  skier,  the  laird  laughingly  threw  a  word  of  warning 
after  them  with  regard  to  the  height  of  the  cliffs  they  might 
come  across — and  go  flying  over. 


A   WILD   JOURNEY.  65 

And  now  these  two  young  heroes  of  ours  were  to  be 
toward  each  other  in  the  position  of  teacher  and  pupil — Olaf 
the  former,  Colin  the  latter.  The  snow  was  in  famous  con- 
dition for  practice.  Newly-fallen  snow  is  not  appreciated 
by  the  skilober,  nor  is  soft,  thawing  snow.  But  the  sun  of 
last  evening  had  just  sufficed  to  melt  the  finer  snow-crystals 
and  pack  the  flakes,  then  the  frost  that  followed  had  hardened 
the  surface. 

Olaf  put  on,  or  got  aboard  of,  his  skier  at  once.  Colin 
refused  to,  on  the  plea  that  he  felt  sure  he  would  make  a 
fool  of  himself  to  begin  with,  and  he  would  rather  be  in 
some  place  where  the  servants  would  not  see  him.  So  he 
took  his  skier  on  his  back. 

Olaf  skied  along  the  road,  and  Colin  trotted  beside  him 
with  the  deerhounds  and  a  Scotch  terrier,  Keltie  by  name, 
who  thought  Olaf  no  end  of  a  joke.  Then  they  left  the 
beaten  track  and  descended  to  the  haughs  by  the  river. 
Here  was  splendid  ground  for  amateur  practice,  and  Olaf 
helped  Colin  to  buckle  up. 

"  How  do  you  feel1?"  said  the  former,  for  Colin  was  stand- 
ing swaying  about  a  little,  and  looking  in  anything  but  a 
very  decided  frame  of  mind. 

"Feel?"  he  replied,  smiling  faintly,  " I  feel  as  if  I  were  a 
barn-door  fowl  going  to  market  with  my  feet  tied." 

"Well,  that  feeling  will  wear  off  in  time.  You  don't 
feel  at  present,  I  suppose,  that  you  could  dance  your  Ghillie 
Callum  or  the  Highland  fling  with  these  things  on  your 
feet." 

"Not  with  any  satisfaction  to  myself,  Olaf,  or  the  on- 
lookers, I  fear." 

"Well,  now,  we  are  ready  to  skid.     Are  you  ready?" 

"I  daresay  I  am,"  said  Colin  disconsolately;  "but  I  am 
thinking  of  the  little  bear  when  its  mother  put  it  down  and 
told  it  to  walk." 

"  Yes,  I  remember,  and  the  mother  never  told  it  how  to, 
but  I  am  going  to  show  you.  Look  at  me  now." 

"I'm  looking  at  you." 

"Well,  don't  look  so  grief-ful.  You  are  not  going  to  be 
hanged,  or  done  anything  disagreeable  with.  Behold!  I 

( 988 )  E 


66         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

forge  ahead  a  little  way.  It  is  level  ground.  Do  I  hop? 
Not  much.  I  know  better.  Do  I  lift  my  feet  at  all?  I  do 
not.  I  but  shuffle  or  slide  along.  See?" 

"Yes.     It  is  very  pretty,  and  looks  easy." 

"  Now,  for  a  time,  the  inclination  to  lift  your  feet  from 
the  ground  will  be  very  great,  but  you  must  keep  it  down, 
and  keep  down  your  toes  also.  You  hold  your  pole  in  your 
right  hand,  as  you  have  it  now.  You  will  find  various  uses 
for  this.  But  of  this  more  anon,  as  books  say.  The  pole 
may  help  you  in  going  uphill  or  on  level  ground,  and  it 
may  keep  you  from  falling  while  going  downhill.  I  like 
a  long  one,  and  I  have  made  both  ours  long. 

"With  your  toes  you  steer  the  ski,  as  it  were.  Here 
on  the  level  ground  you  observe  my  skier  are  kept  parallel 
with  each  other,  and  my  body  as  well  balanced  and  erect  as 
possible,  though  I  may  lean  a  little  forward.  I  could  not 
progress  so  well  on  level  ground  if  I  lifted  my  feet,  besides 
the  snow  would  stick  to  the  skier,  and  that  would  retard  my 
advancement.  You  follow  me,  Colin?" 

"You  mean  I  am  to  move  on  after  you?" 

"  No,  follow  me  mentally  for  the  present.  Then  we  will 
endeavour  to  reduce  the  lesson  to  practice.  The  stroke,  if 
I  may  so  call  it,  is  given  with  the  hips  and  thighs.  So — and 
so.  You  observe  how  I  move  ?  Now  the  snow  to-day  being 
in  such  fine  condition,  I  will  show  you  what  can  be  done  in 
the  way  of  speed.  You  will  wait  a  little,  won't  you?" 

"  0,"  cried  Colin,  "  I  feel  as  if  I  could  willingly  wait  here 
all  day  long.  I  kind  of  dread  the  future." 

But  Olaf  was  nearly  out  of  hearing  before  he  had  finished 
speaking.  It  was  beautiful.  Colin  envied  him,  as  a  tortoise 
might  envy  the  flight  of  a  sand-martin.  Presently  the  young 
Norse  lad  was  back  again.  He  did  not  stop  though,  but 
went  easily  flying  past.  However,  he  soon  returned  and 
pulled  up. 

"At  what  rate  were  you  moving  just  now?"  said  Colin. 

"About  ten  miles  an  hour  or  nearly." 

"And  is  that  the  fastest?" 

"0  no;  going  downhill  we  may  do  twenty-five  or  even 
thirty  miles  an  hour.  But  going  uphill  it  is  simply  a  walk, 


A  WILD  JOURNEY.  67 

and  sometimes  a  hard  one  it  is.  Well,  once  more,  are  you 
ready?" 

"  I  am  resigned,"  said  Colin,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Come  on,  then." 

Colin  came  on.  But,  0  dear !  he  came  on  in  a  very  lame 
fashion  indeed.  His  legs  would  lift,  and  his  body  would 
keep  swaying  about  in  the  most  ungainly  fashion,  while  every 
now  and  then  he  felt  sure  he  had  dislocated  both  his  ankles. 

"You  are  doing  beautiful!     You  are  getting  on  lovelily." 

Just  as  Olaf  delivered  himself  of  that  new  adverb 
"  lovelily",  one  of  Colin's  skier  came  over  a  hillock  or  some- 
thing, he  threw  out  his  pole  to  stick  it  in  somewhere,  any- 
where, and  next  moment  he  made  a  hole  in  the  snow,  legs 
and  skier  waving  helplessly  in  the  frosty  air. 

Olaf  only  laughed. 

"  Looking  back  at  you,"  he  said,  "  you  put  me  in  mind  of 
the  child's  illustrated  alphabet." 

"And  what  letter  did  I  illustrate?" 

"Well,  with  your  legs  and  skier  you  made  a  first-rate 
capital  letter  'W'." 

However,  he  helped  his  friend  up,  and  the  lesson  went  on. 
And  in  less  than  two  hours  Colin  really  began  to  master 
the  rudiments  of  skilobning. 

"  I  feel  more  hopeful  now,"  he  said. 

"I  believe,"  cried  Olaf  encouragingly,  "it  will  be  that 
you  shall  beat  your  teacher  soon." 

Well,  nearly  all  that  day,  off  and  on,  Colin  continued  his 
practising  on  the  level.  By  sundown  he  was  so  tired  that 
he  could  hardly  walk  home.  He  felt  now  as  if  he  had  been 
broken  on  the  wheel,  so  he  said. 

"  My  ankles,  anyhow,  are  both  out  of  joint.  I'm  sure  my 
big  toe  is  swollen  to  five  times  its  usual  size,  and  as  to  my 
heels,  I  know  they  are  just  like  a  couple  of  frosted  turnips." 

Well,  they  were  not  so  bad  as  that  altogether,  but  Elspet 
became  his  doctor.  He  had  a  warm  bath,  and  went  to  bed 
early,  and  next  morning,  after  the  snow-water  bath,  he  told 
Olaf  he  felt  as  "caller"  as  a  trout,  and  as  strong  as  a  colt. 
By  the  fourth  day  all  tiredness  had  vanished,  and  he  be- 
came almost  an  expert  on  the  level  ground. 


68  TO   GREENLAND   AND   THE   POLE. 

Olaf  now  initiated  him  into  the  mysteries  of  hill-climbing, 
and  here  he  was  allowed  to  lift  his  feet  somewhat,  because 
the  balling  of  the  bottom  of  the  ski  with  snow  tended  to 
prevent  its  slipping  back  down  hill. 

He  was  also  taught  to  throw  the  skier  outwards  instead 
of  keeping  them  parallel,  and  to  advance  one  in  front  of  the 
other.  Then  his  pole  came  in  handy  here.  But  in  spite  of 
all  precautions,  Colin  managed  to  spill  himself  most  effectu- 
ally many  times  on  this  never-to-be-forgotten  day,  and  many 
times  he  succeeded  in  illustrating  the  big  "  W". 

Somehow  the  heels  of  the  skier  got  overlapped  now  and 
then,  after  which  there  was  a  catastrophe. 

"  I  am  determined,  though,"  said  his  teacher,  "  that  you 
shall  .be  accomplished  in  hill-climbing.  But,"  he  added, 
"  you  may  walk  up  sideways  sometimes  like  a  crab, 
thus." 

Olaf  gave  him  an  illustration  of  the  method,  and  Colin 
once  more  grew  more  hopeful.  And  to  his  credit  be  it  told, 
that  he  stuck  to  his  lessons  so  well  that  in  about  a  week's 
time  he  could  manage  the  skier  pretty  fairly  either  uphill 
or  downhill. 

But  he,  as  yet,  ventured  on  no  such  terrible  downhill 
nights  as  did  Olaf,  whose  progress  down  a  steep  declivity 
was  sometimes  astonishing,  and  quite  took  Colin's  breath 
away.  When  the  incline  was  extra  long,  and  the  angle 
acute,  Olaf  would  ease  matters  by  putting  his  pole  between 
his  legs,  as  children  make  a  horse  of  a  long  stick,  and  riding 
it  down.  This  checked  in  some  measure  the  headlong  speed 
of  the  skier. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  Colin  "spilt"  himself  a  great 
many  more  times  in  learning  downhill  work  than  in  climb- 
ing. But  he  possessed  the  bold  heart  of  the  mountaineer; 
in  his  veins  ran  the  best  blood  of  the  fighting  clan  M'lvor, 
and  he  was  not  to  be  daunted  by  any  number  of  mishaps. 
And  so  by  the  middle  of  December  Olaf  s  pupil  was  almost 
fit  for  any  kind  of  ski  work. 

Snow  had  fallen  several  times  since  the  first  slight  storm, 
so  that  there  were  plenty  of  opportunities  for  practising. 
The  only  branch  of  skilubning  that  Colin  had  not  as  yet 


A  WILD   JOURNEY.  69 

gone  in  for  was  leaping  over  precipices.  Of  this,  I  must 
confess,  he  felt  rather  shy,  and  no  wonder,  when  he  remem- 
bered his  friend  Olaf's  fearful  leap.  This  certainly  had  been 
an  involuntary  flight,  but  it  had  nearly  ended  in  death. 
Might  not  a  leap  of  less  altitude  result  in  a  broken  leg? 

Shortly  before  Christmas  a  heavy  fall  of  snow  set  in,  and 
this  was  general  all  over,  not  only  in  the  Highlands  of  Aber- 
deenshire,  but  in  Inverness-shire  as  well. 

Christmas  day  was  bright  and  clear,  and  the  wind  had 
gone  round  to  the  south,  bringing  up  therefrom  light  fleecy 
clouds  that  boded  a  thaw.  This  was  just  what  Colin  and 
Olaf  did  not  want,  so  they  went  somewhat  timidly  to  consult 
old  Elspet. 

"There'll  be  riae1  thaw  o'  ony  signeeficance,  my  laddies," 
said  the  weather-witch. 

"But  how  can  you  tell,  Elspet f 

"  By  my  jints  and  taes.  I've  had  the  rheumatics  in  my 
taes  for  forty  years  and  mair,  and  they  just  ache  awfu'  afore 
a  thaw  comes.  Speir  at  auld  Murdoch,  and  he'll  tell  ye  the 
same,  my  bonnie  bairns." 

And  once  again  Elspet  sustained  her  reputation  of  being 
a  witch  as  to  the  weather,  for  back  again  into  the  north 
went  the  wind,  only  it  scarcely  blew  at  all.  The  sunset 
skies  were  a  frosty  green,  and  the  night  beautiful  beyond 
measure  with  bright  shining  stars  and  a  pearly  moon. 

Never  had  the  snow  been  in  better  condition  for  skilob- 
ning,  so  Olaf  informed  his  friend  Colin,  and  that  night  (the 
twenty-seventh  of  December),  the  two  cronies  put  their  heads 
together,  and  prepared  for  a  long-projected  expedition  right 
across  the  mountains  to  Inverness. 

Neither  Colin's  uncle  nor  his  aunt  made  any  objection. 

"If  I  were  a  hundred  years  younger,"  said  the  Laird 
laughing,  "  and  could  skid  along  on  those  laths,  I'd  go  with 
you  myself,  my  lads.  Only,"  he  added,  "  'ware  the  cliffs. 
Mind  that  our  mountains  are  for  the  most  part  higher  than 
even  yours,  Olaf." 

i  In  all  Scotch  words  ending  in  ae,  as  "nae",  "hae",  "brae",  &c.,  the  vowels 
are  pronounced  almost  like  "ay"  in  "hay". 


70          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

When  our  young  heroes  started  upon  this  adventurous 
journey — which  was  to  fit  and  prepare  them,  though  they 
knew  it  not,  for  a  far  longer  and  ten  times  more  perilous 
one — they  had  no  idea  how  long  it  would  take  them,  because 
they  could  not  tell  how  many  hours  the  snow  might  retain 
its  present  condition,  This,  however,  only  lent  an  additional 
spice  of  danger  and  doubt  to  the  undertaking,  and  therefore 
an  extra  charm. 

They  did  not  trouble  with  much  of  an  outfit,  nor  did  they 
take  more  than  one  day's  provisions  in  their  haversacks. 
They  wore  strong  boots  and  knickerbockers,  Glengarry 
bonnets,  and  plaids  worn  shepherd-fashion — I  ought  to  say 
lowland  shepherd-fashion — that  is,  plaited  across  the  back, 
and  with  the  two  ends  hanging  down  in  front  and  tucked 
under  the  portion  of  the  plaid  going  round  the  waist. 
Worn  thus,  it  would  protect  the  most  vulnerable  portions  of 
the  body  against  the  keenest  winds  that  could  blow,  and  it 
would  not  be  any  hindrance  to  work  and  progress.  In  a 
waterproof  satchel  they  also  took  a  change  of  underclothing, 
and  an  extra  pair  of  strong  stockings. 

The  morning  of  the  twenty-eighth  was  beautiful  beyond 
description.  Not  a  breath  of  wind  to  stir  even  a  snow- 
flake  in  the  forest,  a  blue  sky  above,  and  sunshine  that,  but 
for  the  hard  frost — for  the  mercury  got  down  within  a  few 
degrees  of  zero — would  have  been  hot. 

Old  Elspet  gave  them  her  blessing,  and  said,  "  The  Lord 
be  wi'  ye,  my  bonnie  bairns !"  The  Laird  gave  them  a  purse, 
and  Aunt  M'lvor  gave  each  a  kiss  as  she  bade  them  "good- 
bye". But  old  Duncan,  the  shepherd,  met  them  at  the  end 
of  the  wooded  avenue.  He  doffed  his  cap,  and  then  addressed 
them  as  follows: 

"Ye'll  shuist  be  after  taking  Ghillie  wi'  ye  for  safety, 
laddies  r 

Ghillie  was  the  collie  dog  who  had  excavated  Olaf  when 
he  fell  over  the  cliff. 

"The  bit  doggie,"  he  went  on,  "is  wiser  far,  sure  enough, 
than  mony  a  Christian  pody.  He'll  be  a  comfort  to  ye,  and 
if  you'll  pe  lost  at  all,  sure  the  collie  will  pe  after  finding 
ye  again,  whatefer." 


A  WILD   JOURNEY.  71 

Both  boys  shook  Duncan  by  the  hand,  and  thanked  him, 
gladly  accepting  the  dog's  company. 

"Wowff,  wowff!"  barked  Ghillie.  This  sounded  like  a 
good-bye  salute  to  his  master. 

Then  off  they  started.  They  kept  the  highway  for  several 
miles.  This  afforded  fairly  good  skilobning,  for  although  it 
had  been  traversed  by  sleighs  innumerable,  wheels  had  not 
been  on  it  for  many  a  day.  But  they  soon  found  it  neces- 
sary to  desert  the  highway,  and  to  take  as  straight  a  course 
as  possible  westwards. 

Now,  a  journey  like  that  which  our  heroes  have  just 
commenced  is  like  none  other  that  I  know  of.  There  is 
assuredly  a  deal  of  romance  about  it,  but  there  is  a  good 
deal  of  uncertainty  about  it  also,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
hazard  or  danger.  By  the  aid  of  maps  alone  they  have  to 
traverse  one  of  the  wildest  regions  in  Europe,  hills  and 
moorlands  deeply  buried  in  snow,  frozen  lochs  innumerable ; 
frozen  streams  too.  Ay,  the  very  cataracts  themselves,  that 
in  the  sweet  summer-time,  or  in  autumn  when  the  heather 
is  all  in  crimson  bloom,  roar  over  the  lofty  cliffs  or  slip  adown 
the  braes  like  cords  of  frosted  silver,  would  now  be  locked 
in  the  firm  grip  of  winter,  and  scarcely  perceptible  amidst 
the  snows  that  flanked  them. 

They  have  to  skid  across  endless  mosses  and  plains,  where 
path  there  is  none;  through  forests  seldom  trodden  at  this 
bleak  season  of  the  year  by  foot  of  man,  the  home  of  the  red 
deer,  the  hawk,  the  eagle,  and  the  great  owl;  and  they  have 
to  skirt  mountains  whose  lofty,  jagged  summits  pierce  the 
sky  nearly  a  mile  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  A  country, 
too,  so  sparsely  inhabited  that  one  may  travel  a  whole  day 
sometimes  and  not  meet  a  human  being  nor  see  a  hut  or  a 
house. 

Ah!  what  a  glorious  thing  is  youth.  Olaf  and  Colin 
skid  along  as  brimful  of  happiness  and  joy  as  the  laverocks 
that  fan  the  snow-white  clouds  in  spring-time,  and  as  heed- 
less of  dangers  to  come  as  was  honest  Ghillie,  the  collie,  who 
runs  joyfully  by  their  side. 

They  crossed  over  the  brow  of  a  well-wooded  hill  by  mid- 
day, and  descended  carefully  to  a  glen  beneath.  The  brae 


72  TO   GREENLAND   AND   THE   POLE. 

they  were  now  on  was  somewhat  steep.  Both  Colin  and 
Olaf  would  gladly  have  shot  away  at  breakneck  speed,  but 
they  knew  not  the  ground.  Besides,  there  were  trees  on 
each  side,  and  at  any  moment  they  might  reach  the  brink 
of  an  unseen  precipice  and  shoot  over  into— into  eternity. 

But  they  came  to  the  edge  of  the  pine  wood  at  last,  and 
could  now  see  a  long  distance  adown  the  valley  or  glen. 
Smoke  was  rising  from  a  little  farm-house  on  the  opposite 
side.  This  they  determined  to  reach,  and,  if  possible,  pur- 
chase a  little  milk  to  wash  down  their  dinner  withal. 

In  less  than  an  hour  they  stood  at  the  door  of  the  house 
or  cottage.  There  was  a  considerable  air  of  comfort  about 
the  place.  The  door  was  in  front  with  a  window  on  each 
side,  and  the  house  could  boast  of  chimneys  also.  The  hus- 
bandman himself  came  to  the  door,  to  welcome  the  strangers 
in,  and  both  he  and  his  sonsy  wife  and  brawny  children 
examined  the  skier  with  much  interest  and  not  a  little 
amusement. 

The  man  preferred  to  talk  in  Gaelic,  so  that  the  con- 
versation, with  the  exception  of  some  sentences  that  Colin 
translated,  was  entirely  lost  upon  Olaf.  But  none  the  less 
did  he  make  a  hearty  meal.  The  crofter  would  not  permit 
them  to  use  the  luncheon  they  had  brought  in  their  satchels. 
His  wife  produced  a  trayful  of  beautiful,  crisp,  white  oat- 
cakes, a  plateful  of  delicious  butter,  a  kebbuck1  of  her  own 
manufacture,  and  two  immense  basins  of  rich  and  creamy 
milk. 

Money?  Did  they  want  to  insult  him?  Did  they  not 
remember  what  the  Good  Book  said,  "He  not  forgetful  to 
entertain  strangers:  for  thereby  some  have  entertained  angels  un- 
wares." 

Nor  had  Ghillie  been  forgotten.  Oat-cake  was  broken 
up  for  him  in  a  basin  of  warm  milk,  and  he  made  a  hearty 
meal ;  then,  by  way  of  thanks,  he  licked  the  bairnie's  cheek 
who  had  fed  him. 

After  resting  and  chatting  for  a  time,  and  telling  these 
humble  folks, — who  never  in  all  their  lives  had  been  ten 
miles  beyond  their  own  glen, — many  of  the  wonders  of  the 

1  Big  cheese. 


A  WILD  JOURNEY.  73 

outside  world,  our  heroes  got  up,  resumed  their  plaids  and 
skier,  and  prepared  to  renew  the  journey. 

The  crofter  said,  before  they  set  out,  that  if  they  would 
only  stop  all  night  they  would  be  right  welcome.  They 
should  have  the  best  bed,  and  he  and  his  wife  would  make 
shift  on  the  floor.  They  declined  the  offer  with  many 
thanks.  The  kindly  fellow,  however,  could  not  give  them 
very  much  information  concerning  their  route.  It  was  a 
wild,  wild  country,  that  was  all  he  could  say,  and  he  hoped 
the  Lord  would  be  around  them  and  protect  them  from 
every  danger. 

So  with  this  blessing  ringing  in  their  ears  they  took  their 
departure. 

They  soon  crossed  another  hill,  which  led  them  to  the 
edge  of  a  narrow  defile,  in  the  centre  of  which  was  a  little 
loch  and  a  stream,  both  grimly  locked  in  frost.  So  steep 
was  the  declivity  that  they  did  not  venture  to  ski  down,  and 
it  was  fully  half  an  hour  before  they  found  themselves  at 
the  bottom.  It  was,  indeed,  what  would  have  been  called  a 
"  canon  "  in  the  Rocky  Mountains  or  in  California.  It  was 
entirely  uninhabited;  and  rose  steadily  towards  a  table-land 
in  the  north-west. 

That  was  a  long  and  a  weary  climb,  and  both  our  heroes 
were  somewhat  tired  before  they  reached  the  table-land 
above,  which  they  did  just  as  the  sun  was  sinking  low 
behind  the  south-western  hills.  The  scene  that  now  pre- 
sented itself  to  their  view  was  one  of  the  wildest  desola- 
tion. No  doubt  "wildest  grandeur"  would  be  the  proper 
words  to  use  were  the  time  summer  or  autumn,  for  the 
moorland  would  then  be  covered  green  or  crimson,  the  tufted 
snow-white  toad-tails  would  be  waving  in  the  breeze,  and 
many  a  sweet  little  floweret  would  be  nodding  over  the 
pools  and  ponds.  Had  it  been  the  gentle  spring-time,  they 
would  have  heard  the  grouse  and  the  ptarmigan  calling  to 
their  mates;  the  linnet  singing  plaintively  on  the  stunted 
but  fragrant  myrtle;  the  mountain  laverock  singing  high 
against  the  clouds,  and  the  voice  of  the  mire-snipe  or  "  goat 
of  the  air  "  laughing  or  whinnying  as  it  flew  swiftly  over- 
head; they  would  have  seen  the  lambs  frisking  with  their 


74          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

dams,  and  as  they  neared  the  brown  rushy  pools  they  would 
have  startled  the  whirring  wild-duck  and  the  timid  coot. 

But  now,  in  the  dead  of  winter,  all  was  bleak  and  desolate, 
and  a  silence  reigned  all  around,  almost  as  awesome  as  the 
silence  of  Space  itself. 

The  moor  was  many  miles  in  extent,  and  round  about  it 
rose  the  everlasting  hills  and  mountains.  Yonder,  indeed, 
his  gigantic  summit  tipped  with  the  tenderest  tints  of  the 
rose,  casting  shadows  grey  and  blue,  shot  high  in  air  that 
mighty  monarch  of  mountains  Ben  Macdhui  itself,  and 
many  others  of  but  little  less  importance.  Indeed,  it  was 
hill  piled  on  hill,  mountain  rising  over  mountain  all  around 
— a  glorious  and  indescribable  picture  indeed. 

But  our  heroes  were  only  human  after  all,  and  though  they 
stopped  for  a  short  time  to  rest  and  gaze  about  them, 
impressed  and  even  awed  by  the  majesty  of  God's  great 
works,  nature  soon  began  to  assert  itself ;  they  felt  not  only 
cold,  but  just  a  little  hungry. 

On  they  must  press  therefore,  for  though  the  twilight  is 
long  in  these  regions,  it  is  not  indefinite,  and  they  knew 
not  where  they  were  to  sleep. 

It  was  very  easy  work  on  the  hard  surface  of  the  snow,  and 
across  ground  that  was  almost  level.  This  moor  was  quite 
level  in  the  centre  indeed,  for  here  was  a  loch.  A  deep  dark 
loch;  so  deep  was  it  that  shepherds  believed  it  bottomless; 
there  were,  moreover,  ugly  stories  and  superstitions  con- 
nected with  this  Loch  Dhui.  A  dreadful  water-kelpie  dwelt 
in  the  black  depths  of  the  lake,  in  under  the  banks  in  a 
fearsome  cave,  and  his  pastime  used  to  be,  whenever  chance 
threw  it  in  his  way,  to  drag  in  and  drown  the  unwary  and 
belated  traveller,  and  then  pick  his  bones.  The  moor  itself 
was  haunted  by  tiny  sprites,  who  showed  a  light  before  the 
human  wanderer,  until  they  succeeded  in  luring  him  into  a 
morass.  As  soon  as  he  began  to  sink  in  the  quagmire, 
those  terrible  bogies  used  to  form  a  circle  and  dance  madly 
round  him,  laughing  and  shrieking  meanwhile  in  the  most 
eldritch  way.  This  was  but  a  signal  to  the  water-kelpie, 
telling  him  that  his  supper  was  ready,  then  the  awful  spirit 
would  come  striding  over  the  moor.  As  tall  as  two  men 


THE  SMUGGLER'S  CAVE.  75 

was  he,  with  fearful  claws  on  feet  and  hands,  and  wings 
like  a  bat's  between.  Then  he  would  seize  the  shrieking 
traveller,  drag  him  forth  from  the  quagmire,  and  bear  him 
away  to  the  darksome  loch. 

Often  and  often  shepherds  have  heard  the  terrible  shriek- 
ing, the  eldritch,  unholy  laughter  of  the  brownies,  and  the 
sullen  plash  as  the  kelpie  sank  with  his  victim  in  the  loch. 

But  our  heroes  were  all  unconscious  of  these  dark  doings, 
and  unconscious  indeed  that  they  were  skilobning  over  the 
water. 

They  reached  the  end  of  the  moorland  at  last.  And  now 
the  country  seemed  to  get  wilder  and  wilder,  though  some- 
what lower,  and  though  stunted  patches  of  pine -forest 
leaned  here  and  there  upon  the  mountains'  sides.  But  the 
rose  tints  had  fled  from  the  brow  of  the  lofty  Ben,  one  star 
was  already  out,  so  night  came  on  apace,  yet  there  was  no 
sign  of  either  house  or  habitation. 

They  were  tired  indeed,  for  the  day's  journey  had  been 
long  and  toilsome. 

Where  should  they  sleep  ? 


CHAPTER   VII. 

THE  SMUGGLERS'  CAVE— PRISONERS  IN  THE  FOREST— AT 
SEA  IN  A  STORM. 

WHERE  should  they  sleep?  That  was  the  burning 
question,  if  anything  could  be  called  burning  in  frost 
and  cold  so  bitter  as  that  which  now  gathered  around  the 
hills  and  glens.  Where  should  they  sleep?  Well,  if  they 
had  asked  the  question  loud  enough,  Echo  would  have 
answered.  But  the  answer  would  have  been  far  from  satis- 
factory. 

"There  are  no  huts  or  houses,"  said  Colin,  "and  we  can't 
go  on  much  longer.  I  fear  we'll  have  to  creep  under  a  stone 
and  curl  up  in  our  plaids." 


76  TO   GREENLAND  AND   THE   POLE. 

"  Well,  it  isn't  likely  to  snow  to-night,"  said  Olaf,  "  and 
so  we  needn't  fear  being  buried  alive." 

As  they  spoke  they  were  descending  an  incline  as  speedily 
as  the  uncertain  light,  and  the  uncertainty  of  what  might 
be  before  them  in  the  shape  of  cliffs,  allowed.  Soon  they 
found  themselves  at  the  foot  of  a  steep  precipice,  and  the 
entrance  to  a  kind  of  cave  formed  by  snow-laden  branches 
of  trees. 

"  This  will  do,"  said  Olaf.  "  We  will  sleep  under  these 
trees,  as  I  have  often  done  before.  Snow  is  wondersome  warm." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Colin,  bending  down  to  undo  his  skier 
straps.  "  Let  us  leave  our  boots  at  the  bed-room  door  for 
the  servant  in  the  morning." 

When  he  looked  up  Olaf  was  gone. 

"Where  are  you,  old  man?"  he  shouted. 

And  a  muffled  voice  replied: 

"Come  here,  Colin,  come  here." 

Colin  followed,  and  soon  found  himself  inside  a  real  cave, 
the  entrance  to  which  it  seemed  that  Ghillie  had  found.  It 
was  not  dark,  for  Olaf,  after  striking  a  match,  had  found 
a  "  fir  candle  'V  and,  lighting  it,  held  it  like  a  torch  above  his 
head. 

"Olaf,  we're  in  luck.     Let's  explore." 

The  outside  cave  was  a  mere  passage  compared  to  the 
immense  chamber  they  presently  found  themselves  in. 

"Some  shepherd's  habitation,  no  doubt,"  said  Colin. 
"  Well,  it  is  lucky  we  found  it.  And  here  is  a  big  train-oil 
lamp.  Light  it,  Olaf,  and  put  down  your  fir  candle." 

The  lamp  once  lit,  they  could  see  better  around  them. 
There  was  a  hearth  on  which  a  fire  of  wood  and  peat  had 
recently  burned.  Colin  stirred  up  the  ashes  and  found  red 
embers  underneath,  so  he  soon  had  a  splendid  fire.  Ghillie 
curled  himself  up  in  front  of  it  after  shaking  the  snow  from 
his  coat. 

Instead  of  distributing  itself  all  throughout  the  vault-like 
chamber,  the  smoke  was  sucked  up  a  wide  flue  and  went 
the  boys  knew  not  whither.  Nor  did  they  care.  All  they 

1  Huge  pieces  of  old  fir  are  found  in  the  mosses  and  morasses  that  have  lain 
there  for  ages  and  ages.  They  are  split  up  and  used  as  candles  by  the  peasantry 
of  the  north.  This  flr  is  very  full  of  "  oil ". 


THE  SMUGGLERS'  CAVE.  77 

did  know  was,  that  they  were  exceedingly  snug,  so  they 
sat  down  on  some  boxes  and  prepared  to  eat  their  supper, 
sharing  it  with  Ghillie. 

In  one  corner  was  a  bed  of  dried  ferns,  raised  on  a  wooden 
trestle  about  a  foot  and  a  half  above  the  ground,  which  the 
boys  determined  to  make  use  of.  They  found  a  pailful  of 
water  and  a  tin  pannikin.  After  smashing  the  ice  they  had 
a  hearty  drink.  They  filled  a  basin  and  gave  Ghillie  a  drink 
next.  Then  arranging  the  fire,  so  that  it  should  not  die 
down  quite,  they  both  knelt  and  said  their  prayers. 

In  a  short  time  they  were  sound  enough  asleep. 

The  evening — for  it  was  not  late — wore  away,  the  fire 
burned  lower  and  lower.  But  the  boys  slept  on.  It  must 
have  been  about  one  o'clock,  when  they  both  sprang  sud- 
denly up.  They  had  been  awakened  by  Ghillie's  loud  and 
fierce  barking. 

A  tall  and  stalwart  Highlander,  plaided  but  not  kilted, 
stood  in  the  entrance.  There  was  just  light  enough  to  see 
his  figure,  as  well  as  the  faces  of  two  others  who  peeped 
round  his  shoulders. 

"Down,  dog,  down!"  shouted  the  man  in  Gaelic,  "or  I'll 
put  a  bullet  through  the  brains  of  you." 

"  Who  is  here  1"  he  continued  in  English.  "Look  yon, 
now.  I'm  seeing  the  two  of  you  on  the  bed  in  the  corner. 
But  there's  four  of  us,  and  there  is  more  comin'.  Now, 
Messrs.  Excisemen,  it's  you  that's  our  prisoners.  Make  but 
a  single  movement,  and  as  sure  as  the  gor-cock  craws  on  the 
top  of  Ben  Tilt,  you'll  never  see  the  morning  light,  and  your 
nearest  and  dearest  will  never  find  out  where  the  bones  of 
you  are  buried." 

As  the  giant  spoke,  the  boys  could  see  that  in  his  right 
hand  he  held  a  revolver,  while  in  his  left  gleamed  a  very 
murderous-looking  dirk. 

Both  lads  were  frightened  enough. 

Perhaps  it  was  Colin  who  first  regained  his  self-possession. 
He  shouted  to  Ghillie  to  keep  quiet,  then  he  stood  up. 

"  You  will  see,"  he  said;  "  when  I  stir  up  the  fire  and  light 
the  lamp,  how  far  you're  mistaken.  We  are  not  excisemen, 
only  boys  on  a  tour." 


78          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"Spies,  then?" 

Colin  made  up  the  fire  and  lit  the  lamp.  Not  coolly  cer- 
tainly, but  he  did  it.  Then  he  confronted  the  men,  who 
had  now  crowded  into  the  cave.  It  took  some  time  to 
convince  them,  however.  But  the  boys  told  the  plain, 
unvarnished  truth,  and  were  believed  at  last. 

It  was  no  other  than  a  smugglers'  den  into  which  they 
had  unwittingly  wandered.1  But  they  were  nevertheless 
treated  with  kindness. 

Evidently,  however,  the  men  had  come  here  to-night 
intent  on  business.  For  many  more  arrived,  and  from  an 
inner  cave  or  recess  small  cask  after  small  cask  was  taken 
out,  just  enough  for  one  man  to  carry.  These  were  mounted 
on  the  shoulders  of  the  sturdy  fellows,  and  they  went 
silently  away  with  them. 

The  interior  of  a  smugglers'  cave,  when  the  owners  are 
there,  is  generally  described  by  ranting  writers  as  a  scene  of 
revelry  and  wild  orgy.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  more  often 
than  not,  remarkable  for  order  and  quiet.  These  men 
to-night, — though,  had  they  confronted  real  excisemen  or  the 
police,  they  were  prepared  to  fight, — looked  more  like  sheep- 
farmers  or  crofters  than  the  smuggler  of  your  "penny- 
dreadful  "  and  two-penny-halfpenny  theatres. 

"  Boys,  you'll  lie  down  and  sleep,"  said  the  giant  after  a 
time.  "  I  suppose  you  won't  have  a  drop  o'  the  cray  ture  1 
Well,  you're  better  without.  Sleep,  you're  as  safe  as  if  you 
were  in  the  arms  of  the  mothers  that  bore  ye." 

It  was  still  early  in  the  morning  when  the  lads  were  once 
more  aroused  by  someone  shaking  them  by  the  shoulders. 
The  giant  towered  above  them  smiling. 

There  was  a  roaring  fire  on  the  hearth,  and  three  men  sat 
near  it  eating  a  hearty  breakfast  of  porridge  and  milk. 
Colin  and  Olaf  were  by  no  means  loth  to  join  them. 

Then  the  giant  stood  up. 

"Are  you  ready1?"  he  said.  "Verygoot.  No  harm  is 
goin'  to  happen  you.  You  needn't  put  on  your  skates; 
you'll  have  to  walk  a  mile  or  two.  Donald,  tie  up  their  eyes." 

i  There  are,  even  yet,  very  many  such  places  hidden  among  the  Highland  hills, 
especially  iu  the  more  central  districts,  and  towards  the  west  coast. 


PRISONERS   IN  THE  FOREST.  79 

The  lads  submitted  quietly,  after  putting  on  their  plaids, 
and  taking  their  skier  under  their  arms. 

"Good-day,  lads,  and  the  Lord  be  wi'  ye!" 

I  have  yet  to  learn  the  value  of  a  smuggler's  prayer  or 
blessing,  but  it  was  given  heartily  enough  anyhow. 

Two  men  accompanied  our  heroes,  and,  judging  by  the 
very  long  time  they  were  kept  blindfolded,  they  must  have 
been  conducted  seven  miles  at  least  from  the  cave  that  had 
afforded  them  shelter. 

Then  they  were  allowed  sight  and  freedom. 

It  was  barely  daylight  even  yet;  but  they  stood  on  a  road 
that  led  through  a  wood  near  to  a  roaring  waterfall  and 
river. 

"  Which  is  our  way  ? "  said  Colin. 

"The  sun  rises  yonder,  and  you're  about  five-and-thirty 
miles  from  Struan." 

This  was  spoken  in  Gaelic,  the  only  language  these  men 
understood.  Then  they  said  "  Good-day  ",  and  immediately 
disappeared  in  the  wood. 

"Beautiful!"  cried  Olaf,  "0,  Colin,  the  romancesomeness 
of  it!" 

"Yes,"  said  Colin;  "it  is  very  romantic,  but  I  fear  we 
have  come  considerably  out  of  our  way,  and  gone  farther 
south  than  we  required  to." 

"  Never  mind.  The  longer  the  road,  the  more  the  adven- 
tures." 

Olaf  consulted  the  map.  Struan,  or  a  part  of  it,  lay  some- 
where on  the  great  highway  'twixt  Perth  and  Inverness 
across  the  Grampians.  They  must  try  to  strike  this  road 
somewhere. 

They  now  got  their  skier  on  once  more,  and  set  out  along 
the  road  or  path,  for  at  times  it  seemed  little  more  than  a 
mere  sheep-track.  But,  as  far  as  they  could  judge,  it  was 
leading  them  directly  south.  It  was  exceedingly  toilsome 
too,  and  the  whole  forenoon  passed  away  without  their 
having  made  very  much  progress. 

About  one  o'clock,  after  they  had  dined  in  a  frugal  way, 
eating  snow  after  their  repast,  as  they  could  find  no  water; 
they  came  to  a  very  tall  boarded  and  wired  fence,  inside  of 


80          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

which  was  a  wide  expanse  of  beautiful  spruce  trees,  their 
branches  all  leaning  earthwards  with  their  burdens  of 
snow. 

The  road  was  then  taking  a  bend  quite  to  the  east,  as  far 
as  they  could  judge. 

" Bother! "  cried  Colin  at  last.  "  Why,  Olaf,  we're  going 
back  home  again.  Come,  let  us  get  over  the  fence,  and  go 
directly  through  the  forest." 

"But  won't  that  be  trespassing?" 

"Yes,  but  we  must  chance  it.     Come." 

It  was  not  without  considerable  difficulty,  not  to  talk  of 
torn  garments,  that  they  succeeded  at  last  in  mounting  the 
fence. 

"  If  this,"  said  Colin,  when  they  had  once  again  started, 
making  more  or  less  of  a  bee-line  towards  the  west,  or  what 
they  took  to  be  the  west;  "if  this  be  one  of  the  great  High- 
land forests,  Olaf,  it  is  under  a  tree  we  will  have  to  sleep 
to-night." 

Olaf  laughed  lightly.  Nothing,  it  seemed,  caused  that 
lad's  spirits  to  sink  to  zero.  So,  on  all  the  afternoon  they 
skidded  through  the  forest,  up  hill  and  down  dell,  on  and 
on  and  on.  But  never  a  house  nor  signs  of  human  habitation 
did  they  come  near. 

They  were  making  very  fair  progress,  however,  consider- 
ing the  wildness  of  the  forest.  The  English  reader  may  be 
pardoned  for  thinking  that  they  were  all  the  while  passing 
through  a  woodland  on  a  comparative  level.  It  was  quite 
the  reverse.  In  this  great  forest,  which  could  hide  the  largest 
in  England  in  one  corner  of  it,  are  streams  and  lakes  and 
waterfalls,  lordly  pine  woods,  lonely,  bleak,  bare  moorlands, 
on  whose  herbage  the  wild  deer  in  herds  do  browse  in 
summer,  and  tall  mountains  raising  their  lofty  summits  till 
they  pierce  the  highest  clouds. 

In  imagining  that  they  could  make  a  bee-line  through  a 
forest  so  wild  as  this,  the  boys  were  greatly  mistaken. 

The  days  are  very  long  in  summer  time  in  the  northern 
part  of  Scotland,  but  very  short  in  winter,  for  then  before 
four  o'clock  darkness  begins  if  the  sky  is  cloudy. 

Colin  and  Olaf  were  descending  a  hill  towards  a  wooded 


PRISONERS   IN   THE  FOREST.  81 

ravine,  in  which  they  hoped  to  find  shelter  for  the  night. 
They  were  nearly  at  the  bottom  when  bang  went  a  gun 
quite  close  to  them,  the  shot  singing  and  pinging  close  over 
their  heads. 

"  Some  one  firing  at  a  rabbit,"  said  Colin. 

"  Somewhat  near  my  head  though,"  said  Olaf. 

"Stop!  halt!"  cried  a  voice.  "It  is  through  the  legs  of 
ye  I'll  be  putting  the  next  shot." 

Then  a  tall,  strapping  Highlander  in  kilt  and  belts  rushed 
into  the  open. 

"Who  are  ye,  at  all,  at  all?  It  is  after  the  deer  you'll 
be.  I'll  take  ye  before  the  duke." 

"  No,  you  won't,"  said  Colin  laughing. 

"  Well,  it's  cool  you  are  anyhow.  And  what  is  it  at  all 
you  are  wearing.  Sure  I  niver  in  all  the  life  of  me  saw 
boots  like  these  before.  Och!  the  heels  and  the  toes  that 
are  on  them." 

"  Well,  we'd  be  glad  of  a  drink  of  milk,"  said  Colin. 

"And  it's  that  you'll  both  have,  for  I  see  now  it  is  only 
boys  en  joy  in'  a  frolic  you  are." 

"  That's  it.     You  have  guessed  aright." 

"  My  house  is  within  a  gun-shot,  and,  troth,  there  isn't 
another  till  you  come  to  the  road  twixt  the  hotel  and 
Struan,  a  dozen  long  Scotch  miles,  so  it's  sleep  on  the 
snow-clad  heather  you'll  have  to  unless  you  take  a  shake- 
down wi'  myself." 

Glad  enough  were  the  boys  to  find  themselves  once  more 
within  doors.  The  sheiling  where  this  keeper  dwelt  was 
but  a  small  one,  and  very  lonesome.  A  little  fair-haired 
bonnetless  boy  shared  his  solitude  and  helped  him  to  feed 
the  deer  when  they  were  driven  down  in  their  thousands 
by  the  storms.  This  lad  looked  as  wild  as  a  ferret,  and  far 
more  frightened. 

In  putting  their  hands  into  their  satchels,  the  boys  found 
flasks  of  whisky !  Put  there  by  the  smugglers. 

They  handed  these  to  the  keeper,  and  very  pleased  he 
seemed.  Then  they  spent  all  together  a  very  happy  evening, 
singing  songs  and  telling  stories  till  bedtime. 

The  keeper  knew  all  the  forest,  and  after  a  breakfast  of 

(988)  F 


82          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

oatmeal  porridge  and  milk — for  the  keeper  kept  a  cow — he 
put  his  gun  over  his  shoulder  and  convoyed  them  for  more 
than  half  a  dozen  miles  through  the  forest. 

He  gave  them  an  envelope  as  he  bade  them  good-bye. 

"  If  you'll  meet  another  keeper,"  he  said,  "let  him  see  this 
same,  and  you'll  not  forget  the  watchword  'Koureagh'?" 

When  they  had  reached  the  road,  which  they  did  in  less 
than  two  hours,  the  most  hazardous  part  of  their  journey 
may  have  been  said  to  be  over. 

From  Struan,  however,  far  away  to  the  lonely  hotel  of 
Dalwhinnie,  which  stands  about  two  thousand  feet  above 
the  sea-level,  the  road  was  solitary  and  wild  in  the  extreme, 
and  for  nearly  thirty  miles  hardly  was  a  house  or  even  hut 
to  be  seen. 

Arrived  at  Dalwhinnie,  a  right  warm  and  motherly  wel- 
come awaited  them.  The  landlord  himself  was  kindness 
personified,  but  he  handed  the  lads  over  to  his  wife,  a 
bustling,  pleasant-faced,  and  somewhat  nervous  little  body, 
who  soon  succeeded  in  making  Colin  and  Olaf  not  only 
comfortable,  but  as  happy  as  ever  they  had  been  in  their 
lives. 

It  was  long  past  eleven  o'clock  before  they  retired  for 
the  night,  for  honest  John,  the  landlord,  had  many  a  story 
to  tell  himself,  but  kept  the  boys  talking  and  yarning  also. 

"  It  does  seem  strange  to  sleep  between  sheets  once  more," 
said  Olaf.  "  Why,  it  appears  to  be  a  whole  month  since 
we  left  dear  old  Moira  mansion." 

Next  day  they  were  preparing  to  resume  their  journey, 
but  John  said:  "No  boys,  no.  This  is  Hogmanay,1  and 
guests  of  ours  you've  got  to  be,  so  content  yourselves.  We 
don't  see  two  such  bright  happy  faces  every  day  at  this 
dreary  time  of  the  year." 

So  the  boys  stayed  in  this  wild  upland  not  only  for 
Hogmanay,  but  New  Year's  Day  as  well,  and  one  day  more 
for  luck.  Then  with  many  kindly  words  of  farewell,  they 
started  on  their  way  once  more. 

The  country  continued  wild  and  very  beautiful,  albeit 

i  The  laat  day  of  the  year. 


AT  SEA  IN  A  STORM.  83 

all  dressed  in  a  garment  of  snow.  But  they  had  many  a 
romantic  pass  to  get  through,  and  many  a  dangerous  spot 
before  they  reached  Inverness,  which  they  did  safely,  how- 
ever, in  two  days'  time. 

They  were  not  even  yet  at  their  journey's  end,  but  they 
stayed  for  a  whole  week  in  the  beautiful  capital  of  the 
Scottish  Highlands,  then  passed  on  along  the  banks  of  the 
river  Ness,  and  the  hard  frozen  and  snow-covered  Caledonian 
Canal. 

Among  the  woods  on  the  side  of  a  bonnie  brae  stood  the 
beautiful  house  which  Mrs.  Ranna,  Olaf  s  mother,  called  her 
Highland  home.  A  grand  specimen  of  a  true  Highlander 
was  Olaf's  grandfather,  and  a  hearty  welcome,  I  need  hardly 
say,  was  accorded  to  both  our  young  skilobers. 

"0,"  said  Colin,  "we  did  try  so  hard  to  be  here  on 
Hogmanay  night,  or  to  be  first-foot  to  you  on  New-Year's- 
Day  morning,  but  we  did  not  expect  the  road  would  have 
been  so  long,  and  so  rough  and  wild." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Kanna  smiling,  as  she  kissed  her  boy 
again,  "here  you  are  safe  and  sound,  Heaven  be  praised, 
and  here  you  shall  remain,  both  of  you,  till  you  get  fairly 
tired  of  us ! " 

"  0,  that  we  never  will,"  said  Olaf,  "  only,  dear  mother, 
mind,  our  Sigurd  is  coming  over  with  the  yacht  about  the 
end  of  the  month  to  take  us  both  to  Norway!" 

"0,  you  rambling  boys!" 

"  But,  mother,  we  are  both  going  to  be  sailors  anyhow, 
then  we  shall  ramble  more.  But,  meanwhile,  Colin  must 
see  something  of  my  country  in  snow  time,  as  I  have  seen 
so  much  of  his.  I  want  to  make  him  envious,  you  know." 

And  Colin  simply  laughed.  He  was  a  true  Scot,  and 
the  bare  idea  of  any  land  on  earth  being  one  whit  more 
romantic,  or  more  beautiful  than  his  own  was  simply  pre- 
posterous. 

There  was  plenty  of  winter  enjoyment  for  the  boys  to  be 
had  in  the  country  all  round  Belle- Voiach  as  his  grand- 
father's place  was  called. 

It  was  just  the  time  for  sleighing,  and  then  there  was 
skilcibning,  and  skating  on  the  canal,  a  mile  of  which  was  kept 


84          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

swept  for  the  purpose,  to  say  nothing  of  curling  on  the  loch, 
a  great  portion  of  which  was  that  winter  frozen  hard. 

Colin  was  delighted  with  the  Viking,  on  the  whole.  The 
Viking  was  the  name  given  to  Olaf's  yacht. 

Let  me  tell  you  at  once  that  she  was  no  beauty.  Dis- 
miss from  your  mind  all  ideas  of  fine  lines,  clipper  bows, 
tall  raking  masts,  jibboom  and  keel  up  to  date,  and  all 
racing  perfections.  The  Viking  had  bows  more  like  a 
Dutchman's  lugger,  her  stern,  too,  was  round  and  somewhat 
clumsy.  Her  one  mast  was  thick  and  heavy,  her  sails  of 
the  heaviest  canvas,  but — strength  had  been  studied  every- 
where. She  was  built  for  strength  and  safety.  She  looked 
all  over  a  Viking.  The  seas,  you  would  have  said,  as  you 
gazed  upon  her,  were  never  raised  by  wind  or  storm  that 
could  "  batter  her  bows  to  boards  or  carry  her  mast  away  ". 
Swamp  her  1  Impossible.  Only  give  Sigurd  time  to  batten 
down,  and  she  was  safe  from  all  danger  of  swamping,  or 
getting  pooped. 

You  have  heard  of  the  Thistle.  Well,  a  most  charming 
witch  of  a  yacht  she  is,  and  could  walk  to  windward  of  a 
yacht  like  the  Viking  hand  over  hand.  But  the  Viking 
could  outlive  a  storm  in  which  the  Thistle  would  founder, 
and  if  the  Thistle  collided  with  the  Viking  then  the  sooner 
her  crew  scrambled  on  board  the  Norwegian  the  better  would 
it  be  for  the  crew. 

Down  below1?  Well,  she  was  as  rough  as  rough.  No 
gilding,  no  elegance,  no  finery,  but  solid  comfort  everywhere. 

Then  on  a  wind,  and  even  in  something  of  a  seaway,  the 
boy — a  wild  unkempt  fisher  lad  called  Svolto,  that  Sigurd 
had  caught  in  one  of  the  fjords  on  the  north-west  coast — 
could  steer  and  manage  her  easily.  This  boy  was  probably 
about  sixteen  years  of  age,  and  very  short  and  squat.  He 
was  supposed  to  be  a  half-bred  Lapp,  and  he  was  as  faithful 
as  Duncan's  collie  Ghillie,  and  that  is  saying  a  good  deal. 

So,  as  I  say,  Colin  on  the  whole  was  delighted  with  the 
Viking. 

They  sailed  from  Inverness  on  the  25th  of  January,  and 
it  was  evident  from  the  first  that  they  were  going  to  have 


AT  SEA  IN  A  STORM.  85 

a  stormy  passage.  But  Sigurd  took  it  very  coolly.  He 
close-reefed  the  main  sail,  and  bent  a  storm-jib,  and  bid  the 
wind  and  sea  do  their  worst. 

The  wind  and  sea  seemed  determined  to  respond  to  the 
invitation.  It  blew  half  a  gale — at  least  as  the  storm  came 
from  the  north,  the  lay  of  the  land  placed  the  Viking  on  a 
lee  shore.  But  a  lee  shore  is  not  to  be  feared  if  you  have 
plenty  of  offing,  and  Sigurd  fought  the  wind  to  its  very 
teeth,  arid  before  he  put  very  much  eastering  in  it,  he 
reached  away  up  north  a  goodly  way,  and  then  began  to 
stretch  outwards  in  the  direction  of  his  own  land. 

For  her  build — though  it  may  not  be  believed — the 
Viking  sailed  fairly  near  to  the  wind,  although  she  was 
bound  in  such  a  breeze  to  make  some  considerable  leeway. 

When  Sigurd  came  down  below  to  the  little  cabin  amid- 
ships, dignified  by  the  title  of  saloon,  he  looked  as  calm 
and  fearless  as  if  no  wind  at  all  were  blowing,  despite  the 
fact  that  every  now  and  then  the  saucy  wee  craft  was  hit 
by  a  buffeting  sea  right  abeam,  with  a  force  that  appeared 
to  jump  her  clean  out  of  the  water,  or  off  her  legs  as  Colin 
phrased  it. 

"  Judging  from  your  face,"  said  the  latter,  "  we  are  pretty 
safe." 

Sigurd  nodded  and  smiled.  He  was  a  man  who  never 
spoke  more  than  there  was  any  necessity  for. 

"  We  might  run  into  something,  that  is  all,"  he  added. 

Then  he  proceeded  to  make  some  coffee.  Sigurd  gave 
himself  the  credit  of  making  as  good  coffee  as  ever  was 
brewed  or  drank,  and  no  one  who  ever  tasted  his  coffee  felt 
inclined  to  deny  him  the  honour  he  claimed. 

Fiddles  were  needed  to-night  on  the  saloon  table  to  keep 
things  on.  For  the  Viking  not  only  rolled,  and  plunged, 
and  dipped,  and  reeled,  but  in  Sigurd's  own  phraseology, 
"  she  skipped  even  like  unto  a  little  lamb  ". 

A  doorway  opened  abaft  the  saloon  into  a  small  cabin, 
which  was  also  the  galley,  and  could  be  entered  from  a 
companion-way  in  the  deck  near  the  big  heavy  tiller.  But 
the  Viking  was  battened  down  to-night.  This  door  Sigurd 
left  open  that  he  might  hear  what  the  boys  said. 


86          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

The  delightful  odour  of  fried  bacon  that  soon  proceeded 
from  this  galley  convinced  the  lads  that  supper  was  being 
prepared. 

Although  he  had  never  been  much  at  sea,  Colin  was  con- 
stantly in  a  boat  in  all  weathers — and  storms  do  arise  on 
Highland  lakes  at  times — so  although  the  Piking  played  at 
pitch  and  toss  to-night,  he  did  not  feel  at  all  ill,  and  was 
able  to  do  ample  justice  to  the  repast  of  bacon  and  eggs  that 
Sigurd  now  placed  upon  the  table. 

Colin  afterwards  expressed  a  wish  to  go  on  deck  to  have 
a  look  at  the  weather,  but  Sigurd  would  not  hear  of  it. 
Olaf  and  the  boy  and  himself  could  all  hold  on,  he  said,  by 
the  skin  of  their  teeth,  but  there  was  no  bulwark  around 
the  deck  worth  speaking  of,  and  so  safety  below  was  pre- 
ferable to  risk  above. 

It  was  indeed  a  dark  and  a  dirty  night !  The  sky  was 
heavily  overcast  with  clouds,  and  it  was  moonless.  Next 
week  there  would  be  a  new  moon,  and  every  probability 
of  a  spell  of  fine  weather,  but  this  was  the  dark  week. 
There  was  scarcely  a  possibility  of  seeing  anything  from 
the  deck,  except  the  foam-crested  billows. 

The  noise  was  almost  deafening.  Colin  was  allowed  to 
put  his  head  out  from  under  the  tarpaulin  and  look  about 
him,  for  although  there  was  not  the  roar  we  are  used  to 
hear  on  board  big  ships  when  it  blows  great  guns,  the  wind 
shrieked  and  whistled,  and  the  waves  sang.  This  is  plain 
language,  but  had  you  been  on  board  the  Fiking  that  night 
and  had  you  put  your  head  on  deck,  you  would  have  said 
that  it  just  suited  the  situation. 

I  doubt,  however,  if  you  would  have  cared  to  have  kept 
your  head  in  that  position  very  long.  Colin  did  not,  for 
the  spray  that  dashed  on  board  was  blinding — not  that  eyes 
were  of  very  much  use,  however,  on  a  night  so  black  and 
dark.  Then  a  sea  caught  him  in  the  teeth,  and  another 
nearly  cut  his  head  off,  so  he  disappeared  like  a  Jack-in-the- 
box. 

"Had  enough?"  asked  Olaf,  who  had  both  legs  on  a 
locker,  and  was  sipping  more  coffee. 

"  Yes,  thanks,"  said  Colin;  "enough  to  last  me  all  night." 


AT   SEA  IN  A  STORM.  87 

"Well,  sit  down  and  be  social  like  Sigurd  and  me  and 
Ghillie  here." 

Ghillie  was  making  himself  at  home  on  the  other  locker, 
so  Colin  stretched  himself  there,  and  the  collie  willingly 
became  his  pillow. 

"Now,  Sigurd,  it  is  a  long  time  before  we  can  think  of 
turning  in,  so  light  your  cigar — one  of  those  I  bought  you, 
for  your  own  old  pipe  would  smother  bees — and  tell  us  a 
story." 

"A  true  story?" 

"  0,  yes;  I  know  that  my  friend  Colin  would  like  to  hear 
something  about  the  wondrous  regions  round  the  Pole, 
where  you  have  spent  so  many  years  of  your  life." 

"My  English  is  not  very  good,"  began  Sigurd. 

"0,"  cried  Colin,  "on  the  contrary,  I  think  it  excel- 
lent. I  have  been  studying  hard  for  months  with  Olaf  to 
acquire  a  little  Norwegian,  but  I  doubt  if  I  can  as  yet  bless 
myself  in  your  norlan'  tongue." 

So  Sigurd  began. 

I  am  not — not  at  present,  at  all  events — going  to  put  in 
print  the  story  Sigurd  told  Colin,  for  it  was  to  him  he 
especially  addressed  himself;  but  it  was,  to  some  extent,  the 
story  of  his  own  life  and  adventures  in  that  great  white 
country  beyond  the  Arctic  circle,  the  which  if  anyone  visits 
but  once  he  ever  longs  to  see  again. 

As  he  listened,  a  glamour  or  spell  seemed  to  be  flung 
around  our  hero  Colin.  It  was  the  glamour  of  the  spirit  of 
the  ice. 

But  Sigurd  was  silent  at  last. 

"Are  you  done1?"  said  Colin. 

Sigurd  smiled  and  nodded.  "Done?"  he  said.  "Why, 
master,  it  will  soon  be  to-morrow." 

Whether  to-morrow  ever  comes  is  a  question,  but  at  this 
moment  Olaf,  smiling,  held  up  his  father's  watch.  It  was 
perilously  near  to  the  midnight  hour. 

"I  could  riot  have  believed  it,"  said  Colin. 

Then  with  knitted  brows  he  sat  for  a  little  while  drum- 
ming the  table  with  his  fingers  and  nails. 

"What  are  you  thinking  about?"  said  Olaf.      "Don't 


88  TO   GREENLAND  AND   THE   POLE. 

answer:  I  know.  You  are  thinking  that  if  ever  you  have 
the  chance  you  will  visit  the  sea  of  ice,  and  witness  for 
yourself  some  of  the  wonders  that  Sigurd  has  been  good 
enough  to  tell  us  of." 

"You  are  right,  Olaf." 

"  I  knew  I  was.  Well,  an  opportunity  may  arise  sooner 
than  you  imagine." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  Sigurd. 

"  I  do  not  quite  understand,"  said  Colin. 

"  Well,  I  have  heard  Mr.  Olaf  say  you  were  an  excellent 
rifle  shot." 

"I  may  say,"  quoth  Colin,  "that  I  was  almost  born  with 
a  rifle  in  my  hand." 

"  What  a  dangersome  child  you  must  have  been,"  said 
Olaf  laughing. 

"My  uncle  can  and  has  brought  down  an  eagle  on  the 
wing  with  his  rifle.  He  taught  me  first  to  pull  a  trigger." 

"And  Olaf,  too,  can  shoot  well,"  continued  Sigurd.  "  That 
is  good.  I  know  men  who  command  sailing-ships  who 
would  gladly  give  both  of  you  board,  and  probably  wages 
as  well,  in  return  for  the  use  you  might  make  of  your  guns." 

"  Hurrah!"  cried  Colin.  "  0,  don't  say  much  more  either 
of  you.  I  shall  turn  in  now.  I  shall  fall  asleep  thinking 
about  the  great  white  land,  and  dream  I  am  there." 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

NORWEGIAN   FJORDS   IN   WINTER — BIRDS!   BIRDS !   BIRDS! 

COLIN  slept  long  and  soundly.     Whether  he  dreamt  of 
the  great  white  land  or  not  I  cannot  say;  but,  if  so, 
his  dreams  must  have  been  so  pleasant  that  he  found  it 
difficult  to  tear  himself  away  from  them,  for  it  was  past 
eight  and  nearly  broad  daylight  before  he  awoke. 

The   first  thing   he   was  sensible  of   was   that   he   felt 
hungry — the  second  that  breakfast  was  cooking. 


NORWEGIAN   FJORDS   IN   WINTER.  89 

The  wind  had  gone  down,  and  with  it  the  sea,  so  that 
the  Viking  was  stretching  merrily  off  and  away  across  the 
foam  for  Bergen.  Olaf  was  up  and  dressed,  and  even  Ghillie, 
although  he  certainly  was  no  sailor,  had  ventured  on  deck. 

It  did  not  take  Colin  very  long  to  perform  his  ablutions 
and  to  dress.  The  little  yacht  was  no  longer  battened 
down,  so  he  went  up  at  once,  and  Olaf  met  him  with  a 
merry  smile. 

"See,"  he  cried,  "the  wind  has  gone  round  to  the  west; 
so  right  soon  we  shall  see  the  hills  and  the  mountains  of 
my  dear  native  land!" 

The  morning  was  crisp,  clear,  and  cold,  so  that  our 
heroes  were  not  at  all  sorry  when  Sigurd's  rather  plain 
figure-head  was  popped  above  the  companion,  and  breakfast 
was  announced. 

The  wind  kept  fair  all  the  rest  of  the  passage,  and  in  due 
time  the  Viking's  anchor  was  let  go  near  an  island  not  far 
from  Bergen.  On  this  island  lived  Sigurd's  old  mother, 
and  it  was  to  permit  the  worthy  fellow  to  visit  her  that 
the  Viking  was  anchored  in  the  bay. 

Sigurd  came  of  a  good  old  family  of  fisher  people,  who 
were  so  clannish  in  their  way,  that  they  had  married  and 
intermarried  among  each  other  for  generations.  These 
frugal  folks  were  as  brave  as  brave  could  be,  and  at  sea 
nothing  could  exceed  their  courage  and  daring.  They  sup- 
plied many  a  sturdy  sailor  to  the  ships  that,  year  after  year, 
sailed  northwards  to  the  Greenland  seas,  and,  as  far  as  one 
can  judge,  the  forefathers  of  this  very  people  may  have 
been  seamen  with,  and  fought  under  the  Vikings  themselves. 

Well,  Colin  landed  at  Bergen  in  a  very  contented  and 
good-natured  frame  of  mind.  He  was  quite  prepared,  for 
Olaf  s  sake,  to  praise  and  admire  all  he  saw.  At  the  same 
time,  he  did  not  expect  to  find  Bergen  a  city  so  nicely  laid 
out  as  it  really  is. 

There  is  a  little  town  called  Buckie,  in  Scotland,  rather 
celebrated  for  its  dried  haddocks,  and  Colin  told  his  friend 
that  he  had  in  reality  expected  to  find  Bergen  a  kind  of 
enlarged  edition  of  Buckie. 

But  here  were  three  good  harbours,  shipping  innumerable, 


90          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

quays  that  put  him  in  mind  of  those  in  Aberdeen,  spacious 
streets  and  churches,  to  say  nothing  of  a  Gothic-built 
cathedral. 

The  whole  was  imposing  to  a  degree.  When  tired  of 
wandering  through  the  town,  Colin  and  Olaf  dined  at  an 
excellent  hotel,  then  paid  a  visit  to  the  suburbs,  and  to  the 
forts,  castles,  and  ramparts,  that  mount  many  a  heavy  and 
formidable-looking  gun,  and  are  as  well  manned  as  armed. 
But,  after  all,  it  was  in  the  hills  and  mountains  which  formed 
the  back-ground  of  the  view,  and  stood  out  bold  and  white 
against  the  blue  of  the  sky,  that  Colin  seemed  most  interested. 

"Ah!"  said  Olaf,  "thither  we  shall  go  to-morrow,  and 
you  shall  see  a  sight  that  will  make  you  once  more  green 
with  envy.  Ha!  ha!" 

Olaf  was  as  good  as  his  word,  and,  in  company  with 
Sigurd  and  Ghillie,  the  lads  started  next  day  to  climb  one 
of  the  highest  mountains. 

The  forenoon  was  bright  and  glorious;  then  what  shall  I 
say  of  the  view  that  was  spread  out  before  them  when  they 
gained  the  summit  of  that  peak  of  snow?  What  shall  I 
say?  Why,  simply  confess  my  inability  to  do  justice  to  it 
with  this  poor  pen. 

To  the  south,  to  the  north,  and  east 

"  Hills  on  hills  successive  rise  ". 

Amongst  them  is  many  a  lake,  many  a  rapid  stream,  and 
many  a  cataract,  now  ice-bound,  for  the  hard  frost  is  here  as 
in  Scotland. 

Far  down  beneath  is  the  city  itself,  with  its  mansions,  its 
forts  and  battlements,  and  its  great  warehouses  jutting  into 
the  water.  The  red  roofs  of  many  of  the  houses  form  a 
peculiar  and  beautiful  feature  of  the  view.  Then  beyond 
are  the  strangely-shaped  islands,  and,  farther  off  still,  the 
darkling,  restless  waves  of  the  Northern  Sea. 

The  scene  on  the  whole  was  so  wild  and  majestic  that  for 
a  time  Colin  was  silent.  He  was  wrapped  in  admiration. 
Then  the  teais  sprang  to  his  eyes,  and  he  turned  right 
round  and  faced  bis  friend. 

"Thank  you,  Olaf;  thank  you,"  he  said. 


NORWEGIAN   FJORDS   IN  WINTER.  91 

And,  indeed,  that  was  about  all  he  could  say  just  then. 
There  are  times,  you  know,  when  one's  heart  feels  far  too 
full  for  words,  and  this  was  the  case  at  present  with  Colin. 

Colin  probably  felt  a  little  sorry  that  he  had  given  way 
so  far  to  his  enthusiasm,  though  he  need  not  have  been. 
But  your  true  Highlander,  be  he  young  or  old,  is  ever 
ashamed  of  anything  so  effeminate  as  a  tear.  So  he  bent 
down  low  to  pat  and  smooth  Ghillie,  and  when  he  once 
more  stood  erect — Richard  was  himself  again. 

On  board  the  little  Viking  once  more,  they  leave  the  har- 
bour and  city  of  Bergen  far  behind,  and  with  a  light  westerly 
breeze  somewhat  abaft  the  beam,  they  are  steering  north- 
wards now.  Sigurd  keeps  well  out  to  sea.  The  voyage 
they  are  on  is  but  a  brief  one;  but  the  coast  here  is  dan- 
gerous, and  at  any  moment  it  might  come  on  to  blow  and 
the  little  yacht  be  dashed  upon  the  rocks  to  leeward. 

Squalls  may  not  come  on  quite  so  suddenly  in  these  lati- 
tudes as  in  the  Indian  Ocean,  but  they  are  fierce  and  terrible 
enough  when  they  do  blow.  Caution  is  one  of  the  traits  of 
the  Norseman's  character;  it  is  a  good  quality.  It  is  but 
right  one  should  look  before  one  leaps — only,  I  must  add 
that  when  a  Norwegian  does  make  up  his  mind  to  leap,  he 
does  it  with  a  will,  and  success  is  nearly  always  the  reward 
of  his  daring. 

Whither  now  was  the  Viking  bound  ?  If  you  look  at  a 
map  of  Norway  you  will  speedily  perceive  that  the  whole  of 
its  northern  and  north-western  coast  is  deeply  indented  by 
arms  of  the  sea.  It  is  a  rock-bound  and  mountainous  shore, 
and  against  these  rocks  the  North  Sea,  backed  up  by  the 
whole  inconceivable  force  of  the  Atlantic,  has  been  making 
war  for  ages.  Its  object  would  seem  to  be  to  suck  Norway 
foot  by  foot  beneath  the  ocean. 

These  arms  of  the  sea  are  called  in  Scotland  lochs;  but 
here  they  are  called  fjords  (pronounce  the  "  j  "  in  that  word 
as  if  it  were  "  y  ").  Some  of  these  fjords  run  quite  a  long 
way  into  the  interior — not  always  in  a  straight  course,  by 
any  means — so  that  oftentimes  they  appear  to  be  entirely 
land-locked. 


92          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

It  was  for  one  of  these  that  Sigurd  in  the  Viking  was  now 
making. 

Our  heroes  had  left  Bergen  so  early  in  the  morning  that 
the  stars  were  still  shining  brightly  overhead,  and  reflected 
in  the  dark  waters  of  the  bay.  Few  would  have  dared  to 
go  to  sea  at  such  an  hour  without  a  pilot.  But  Sigurd  him- 
self knew  every  landmark,  and  could  have  piloted  a  whole 
fleet  of  battle-ships  safely  out  into  the  open  water. 

Before  the  afternoon  sun  had  begun  to  decline  in  the 
south-west,  the  Viking  was  heading  away  for  the  fjord,  and 
shortly  afterwards  entered  it.  But  although  the  wind  was 
now  fair  it  had  begun  to  go  down  with  the  sun,  so  that 
the  Viking's  progress  was  slow  indeed. 

What  a  glorious  scene  was  that  now  opening  out  before 
them !  Perhaps  "  glorious  "  is  scarcely  the  adjective  I  ought 
to  use.  It  was  a  wild  and  gloomy  picture.  The  fjord  itself 
was  but  a  narrow  one;  at  its  entrance  probably  not  much 
over  half  a  mile  in  width,  and  sometimes  narrowing,  some- 
times widening  as  it  went  farther  inland. 

The  rocks  rose  sheer  up  from  the  deep  clear  sea,  forming 
black,  wet,  beetling  precipices,  with  here  and  there  a  tiny 
waterfall,  like  a  silver  thread  falling  over  them  sheer  down 
without  a  break  into  the  water.  One  of  these  precipices 
might  run  inland  for  a  hundred  yards  or  more,  then  be  cut 
up  into  a  series  of  rocks  that  rose  out  of  the  waves  like  tiny 
mountains,  and  of  all  kinds  of  fantastic  shapes  and  forms. 

.  As  the  Viking  sailed  on,  the  wind  fell  more  and  more. 
The  reefs  had  long  since  been  shaken  out,  of  course,  and  a 
larger  jib  set,  yet  even  with  this  advantage,  she  was  making 
barely  two  knots  an  hour. 

But  she  had  a  dreamy,  soul-soothing  kind  of  motion  as 
she  rose  and  fell  on  the  swell  that  nearly  always  rolls  into 
these  fjords.  Colin,  as  he  lay  on  deck  wrapped  up  in  his 
furs,  liked  it,  and  cared  not  how  long  he  might  take  to  reach 
his  destination. 

Gazing  overboard  down  into  the  deep  translucent  water, 
he  could  see  many  kinds  of  fishes,  some  alone,  and  some  in 
shoals;  but  what  attracted  and  riveted  his  attention  most 
were  the  dozens  and  scores  of  beautiful  medusae,  or  jelly- 


"  IT   SEEMED  THAT  THE   VIKING   WAS   RUNNING  STRAIGHT 
TO   DESTRUCTION." 


NORWEGIAN   FJORDS    IN   WINTER.  93 

fishes.  These  were  sometimes  as  large  as  ladies'  sunshades, 
and  swam  about  in  every  direction:  they  floated  lazily  up- 
wards; they  dived  or  sunk;  they  swam  in  circles,  and  swam 
on  their  sides.  It  was  while  on  their  sides,  that  Colin  noted 
with  wonderment  that,  near  the  places  where  their  strange, 
elongated,  tentacular  legs  joined  their  bodies,  they  were 
studded  and  gemmed  as  with  precious  stones  of  every  tint 
of  the  rainbow. 

When  tired  of  gazing  down  into  the  sea,  Colin  had  but 
to  cast  his  eyes  upwards  to  sky  or  to  rocks.  The  sea-birds 
were  here  in  their  thousands,  for  the  nesting  season  had  not 
yet  commenced. 

Seeing  his  friend  so  much  astonished  at  the  multitude  of 
birds  around  them,  Olaf  placed  his  hand  on  his  arm. 

"Wait  a  little,"  he  said,  "you  haven't  seen  half.  Pre- 
sently the  fjord  takes  a  bend.  Have  your  field-glass  focussed 
and  ready.  These  birds  are  my  wild  pets,  and  I  know  them 
all— all." 

It  seemed,  shortly  afterwards,  that  the  fjord  had  come  to 
an  end,  and  that  the  Viking  was  running  straight  to  destruc- 
tion against  the  cliffy  rocks,  but  suddenly  Sigurd  gave  an 
order,  the  boy  put  the  helm  hard  down,  and  the  little  vessel 
came  round  and  floated  away  in  between  two  castellated 
rocks;  and  now  the  fjord  grew  wider,  but  the  scenery  none 
the  less  wildly  beautiful.  They  could  see  the  head  of  this 
strange  ocean-loch  now,  although  it  was  still  five  miles  away. 

It  ended  at  a  beach  that  was  but  an  opening  to  a  wide 
and  romantic  glen,  adown  which,  with  their  glasses,  the 
boys  could  notice  a  wild,  tumultuous  stream  tossing  and 
foaming  in  a  series  of  cataracts  as  it  made  its  way  to  the 
fjord.  The  stream  was  lined  by  woodlands  that  rose  and 
rose  to  the  hills  on  each  side.  The  glen  itself  rose  as  it 
trended  eastwards  till  it  was  backed  by  lofty  rugged  moun- 
tains, their  white  bosoms  and  summits  glittering  in  the  rays 
of  the  setting  sun.  The  fjord  just  here  was  not  all  clear  water. 
At  each  side  the  lofty  rocks  still  rose  sheer  from  the  depths 
below,  but  here  and  there  were  little  islands,  some  almost 
flat,  others  a  mass  of  fantastic  rockwork,  as  if  Mother 
Nature  had  been  amusing  herself  in  her  idle  moments  in 


94          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

trying  to  fashion  the  curious  and  grotesque.  But  it  was 
not  these  islands  so  much  as  their  strangely-beautiful  in- 
habitants that  interested  Colin  most.  These  were  birds — 
birds — birds ! 

Birds  everywhere,  clustering  on  the  rocks,  wheeling  in 
the  air,  floating  lazily  on  the  swell,  running  on  the  beach — 
birds,  birds  everywhere.  And  yet  the  noise  was  not  so 
loud  and  disagreeable  as  we  sometimes  hear  it  on  islands  on 
the  western  shores  of  Sutherland. 

"  The  nesting  time,"  said  Olaf,  "  will  soon  be  here,  and 
so  the  birds  are  on  their  best  behaviour." 

"Why,"  said  Colin,  "those  islands  will  be  covered  with 
eggs  a  little  later  on." 

"True,  Colin;  you  would  scarce  be  able  to  walk  on  the 
lowest  of  the  islands  without  doing  damage,  and  so  tame  are 
the  birds  at  times  that  they  will  scarcely  move  except  to 
peck  at  your  legs  as  you  pass.  But  the  beautiful  feathered 
creatures  you  see  yonder  do  not  all  build  here,"  he  con- 
tinued. "0  no;  many  species  are  but  resting,  and  anon 
will  go  inland  to  the  lakes  among  the  silent  hills." 

The  Viking  had  now  got  close  enough  to  some  of  the 
islets  for  study,  and,  at  a  word  from  Olaf,  Sigurd  got  the 
mainsail  ashiver,  and  they  were  soon  almost  motionless  on 
the  water. 

"Look,  Colin,  yonder  on  the  little  rock  or  boulder  are 
some  loons  or  black-throated  divers.  They  will  go  inland. 
Eggs?  Ah!  I  see  that,  like  myself,  you  are  interested  in 
birds'  nesting.  They  make  a  nest  close  to  a  pool,  not  unlike 
your  wild  ducks,  though  they  lay  but  two  brownish  eggs, 
prettily  mottled  and  dotted  with  black.  The  loon  nearly 
always  kills  one  of  her  chickens, l  but  becomes  very  fond  of 
the  other,  and  teaches  it  to  dive  by  taking  it  on  her  back  to 
the  bottom  of  the  water." 

"Cruel  mother!" 

"  Yes,  but  I  always  think  the  loons  are  half  silly,  and  you 
would  say  the  same  if  you  knew  them  as  well  as  I  do. 

"  We  do  not  find  here  either  the  red-necked  or  small  loon, 

iThis  statement  should,  I  think,  be  taken  with  a  grain  of  salt  and  a  little 
vinegar.  I  am  loath  to  believe  that  either  the  black-throated  diver  or  great 
northern  loon  are  so  unnatural. 


BIRDS!  BIRDS!  BIRDS!  95 

or  the  great  northern  loon.  But  I  have  found  nests  of 
both  when  Sigurd  and  I  wandered  far  up  towards  the  land 
of  the  Finns.  It  has  only  two  eggs,  of  a  yellowish  colour, 
ticked  with  black. 

"  The  grebes,  Colin,  are  quite  a  large  family  with  us  on 
inland  waters.  0,  you  shall  see  them  later  on  in  their 
hundreds,  and  I  always  think  they  are  among  the  loveliest 
water-birds  we  possess,  but  so  shy  it  is  almost  impossible 
sometimes  to  study  them. 

"See  yonder,  in  a  row  on  the  beach,  are  puffins.  Funny 
birds,  but  very  fierce  at  the  nesting  season.  And  higher 
up  yonder  are  some  guillemots.  I  don't  know  what  they 
want  here.  They  generally  breed  farther  north,  in  Finland. 
We  call  them  herring-hunters.  Eggs  1  They  don't  lay  eggs, 
and  don't  have  a  nest." 

"What!" 

"  Well,  they  just  lay  one,  and  hatch  it  on  the  bare  rock. 
A  pretty  egg  it  is,  though.  Sea- blue  in  colour,  with 
spots  of  black  and  brown. 

"  See  that  droll  bird  yonder.  No,  to  the  right.  That  is  our 
sea-swallow.  It  is  the  gannet.  It  tells  the  fisherman  where 
the  herring  are.  One  egg  only,  but  a  nest  of  dried  sea-weed 
and  grass,  and,  though  the  egg  is  small  compared  to  the  size  of 
the  bird,  it  is  shapely,  and  of  a  beautiful  greenish- white  colour." 

"Why,  Olaf,  you  are  quite  an  ornithologist." 

"  I  know  nearly  all  the  birds  in  Norway,  Colin,  by  their 
shape,  size,  and  plumage,  by  their  nests  alone,  by  their  eggs 
alone,  or  by  their  songs  and  cries.  It  must  seem  to  you  that 
I  am  boasting,  but  then,  Colin,  remember  I  am  but  a  wild- 
some  boy  myself,  and  have  had  birds  and  beasts  as  my  com- 
panions since  I  could  crawl." 

I  only  wish  I  had  space  to  tell  you  one  half,  or  less  than 
half,  of  all  that  Olaf  told  to  Colin  this  evening.  He  was 
indeed  a  bird-lover,  and  here,  near  to  these  islands,  he  was 
in  his  element.  But  he  rattled  on  as  fast  as  his  tongue 
could  wag  for  well-nigh  an  hour,  describing  the  appearance, 
the  habits,  the  tricks  and  manners  of  gulls,  such  as  the  her- 
ring-gull, whose  eggs  are  so  numerous  on  the  coast  as  to 
form  quite  an  article  of  commerce,  the  Iceland  and  ivory 


96  TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

gulls,  the  black-backed  and  black-headed  gulls,  the  skuas 
and  terns,  and  last,  but  not  least,  the  stormy  petrel,  or 
Mother  Carey's  chicken. 

But  now  the  sun  had  set  behind  the  rocks  and  sea,  the 
clouds  in  the  west  and  south-west  were  of  tints  and  colours 
more  gorgeous  than  ever  Colin  remembered  seeing,  and — 
well,  to  descend  from  the  sublime,  I  may  tell  you  that 
Sigurd  began  to  cough.  The  cough  was  what  we  may  call 
a  "put-on  one",  and  was  only  meant  to  draw  Olaf's  atten- 
tion to  the  fact  that  the  light  would  soon  fade. 

"  Fill  the  mainsail,  Sigurd,"  said  Olaf. 

And  away  slipped  the  Viking  once  more,  heading 
straight  up  the  fjord.  The  wind  had  increased  now  to  a 
gentle  breeze,  so  that  in  less  than  an  hour  the  Viking  was 
safe  at  anchor  within  a  gunshot  of  Olaf's  own  home. 

The  place  where  the  anchor  was  let  go,  was  a  small  bay 
to  the  land  side  of  a  tiny  rocky  island,  so  that  she  was  per- 
fectly secure,  and  could  not  possibly  be  driven  on  shore  by 
any  gale  that  could  blow. 

Olaf's  house,  or  his  mother's  house,  to  speak  more  cor- 
rectly, stood  upon  an  eminence  in  the  woodland,  and  quite 
overlooking  the  fjord.  It  was  this  very  fact  that  prevented 
Mrs.  Ranna  from  spending  so  much  time  in  this  beautiful 
place  as  she  otherwise  might  have  done.  It  had  been 
Captain  Ranna's  custom  always  to  run  into  the  fjord  on 
his  return  home  from  Greenland,  and  before  going  on  to 
Bergen;  and  somehow,  in  autumn  mornings,  when  gazing 
from  her  window  away  adown  the  dark  loch,  she  had  never 
been  able  to  disabuse  her  mind  of  the  idea  that  she  might 
soon  see  the  white  sails  of  her  dear  husband's  barque. 

So,  at  whatever  other  time  of  the  year  Mrs.  Ranna  was  to 
be  found  at  her  Norway  home,  she  was  never  there  in  autumn. 

The  boys  landed  in  their  tiny  dinghy,  which  was  but 
little  bigger  than  an  ordinary-sized  washing-tub,  and  pretty 
much  of  the  same  build. 

There  was  along  the  sea-beach  here  quite  a  small  colony 
of  Norsemen  and  their  families,  who  lived  a  kind  of  amphi- 
bious life.  They  were  either  on  or  in  the  water  about  half 
the  year  round,  combining,  as  they  did,  various  species  of 


BIRDS!  BIRDS!  BIRDS!  97 

fishing,  seal-hunting  on  outlying  rocks,  bird-catching  for 
their  feathers,  and  egg-collecting,  so  that,  upon  the  whole, 
they  managed  to  make  a  very  comfortable  living. 

And  all  the  inhabitants  of  this  humble  hamlet  turned  out 
to  welcome  Olaf  home,  and  great  indeed  was  their  rejoicing 
to  see  him  so  well,  for  they  had  heard  he  had  been  mur- 
dered and  buried  in  a  foreign  land.  They  gave  his  friend 
Colin  a  hearty  and  most  respectful  welcome  also. 

Among  those  kindly  people  Colin  noticed  an  old  man  and 
an  oldish  woman,  who  seemed  to  take  more  interest  in  Olaf 
than  any  of  the  others.  They  were,  indeed,  his  principal  house- 
keepers. His  Elspet  and  his  Murdoch,  Olaf  now  called  them. 

Homeward  with  Colin  marched  Olaf,  preceded  by  his  re- 
tainers, and  followed  at  some  distance  by  many  of  the  villagers, 
who  apparently  could  not  see  enough  of  the  young  master. 

Another  thing  that  attracted  their  attention  was  Ghillie, 
the  collie.  They  admired  him  much.  In  some  respects  he 
was  not  unlike  their  own  dogs,  although  their  ears  were 
even  more  erect  and  shorter  than  Ghillie's,  and  their  coats 
even  shaggier.  But  Ghillie's  face  beamed  with  intelligence 
and  affection,  while  in  the  faces  of  their  own  poor,  ill-used, 
and  badly-fed  curs  distrust  and  fear  predominated. 

A  monkey's  allowance  is  said  to  be  a  bit  and  a  buffet. 
These  dogs  had  many  a  buffet,  but  seldom  a  bit,  saving  the 
bones  they  picked  up  on  the  dunghill  or  the  indigestible 
messes  they  found  on  the  beach. 

The  path  that  led  to  Holtval  House  was  a  zigzag  or 
winding  one.  It  wound  up  through  the  pine-wood,  and  was 
covered  with  white  sea-shells  and  sand.  Then  through  the 
upright  jaw-bones  of  a  monster  whale  that  formed  an  arch- 
way, the  boys  found  themselves  on  level  ground,  and  in  front 
of  a  solid  square-built  house  or  mansion.  Snow  lay  on  the 
lawn  and  flower-beds,  though  the  path  that  led  to  the  house 
was  clear,  and  in  the  season,  no  doubt,  the  garden  would  be 
charming  enough. 

For  a  whole  week  Colin  and  Olaf  stayed  at  Holtval,  and 
whether  out  of  doors  or  in,  both  succeeded  in  thoroughly 
enjoying  themselves. 

( 988 )  G 


98          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

What  glorious  possessions  those  are — youth  and  health ! 
Our  heroes  had  both,  and  during  that  week  not  a  day 
passed  that  did  not  find  them  out  on  the  water  fishing  or 
studying  the  wild  birds.  Then  in  the  evening,  in  the  old- 
fashioned  parlour  of  the  house,  before  a  fire  big  enough  to 
have  roasted  a  sheep,  Sigurd  used  to  tell  them  stories  of  the 
far  north,  and  sometimes  the  boys  used  to  sing. 

The  old  housekeepers,  whom  Olaf  would  call  his  Elspet 
and  his  Murdoch,  used  to  come  quietly  in  and  sit  on  the 
edge  of  a  dais  at  a  respectful  distance,  not  only  from  the 
company,  but  from  each  other. 

The  parlour  and  almost  every  other  room  in  the  house 
contained  mementos  of  poor  Captain  Ranna's  Arctic  travels. 
Bears'  heads  and  paws  decorated  the  walls,  and  so  also  did 
the  stuffed  heads  of  many  species  of  seals.  Whole  skins  of 
these  same  animals  hung  on  the  walls,  lay  on  the  floor,  or 
were  thrown  carelessly  over  chair-backs  and  sofas. 

At  each  side  of  the  over-mantel  in  the  dining-room  there 
faced  one  the  huge  head,  with  goggle  eyes  and  drooping 
tusks,  of  a  gigantic  walrus.  In  a  corner  stood  the  ivory 
spear  of  a  narwhal  or  sea-unicorn,  and  here,  there,  and  every- 
where, in  hall  and  in  rooms,  were  clean  and  polished  vertebrae 
of  whales  and  skeletons  of  seals.  Pictures  of  ships  in  various 
positions  of  danger,  both  among  the  ice  and  at  sea,  hung  on 
the  walls,  and  pictures,  too,  of  every  kind  of  Arctic  scenery. 

Indeed,  from  garret  to  basement  this  was  the  house  of  an 
Arctic  sailor,  and  one,  too,  who  had  evidently  loved  his  pro- 
fession dearly. 

But  Olaf  himself  had  added  to  this  museum  of  wonders. 
The  boy  had  studied  ornithology,  and  taxidermy  also,  to  some 
purpose,  as  the  innumerable  specimens  of  birds'  eggs  in  cases 
under  glass,  and  of  stuffed  sea-fowl,  everywhere  fully  testified. 

But  sUlobning  had  not  been  forgotten,  and  now  all  pre- 
parations were  made  for  a  tour.  Sigurd  was  to  accompany 
the  expedition,  for  it  was  to  be  a  hunting  as  well  as  a 
skidding  one. 

Sigurd,  after  humming  and  hawing  one  evening  for  some 
time,  delivered  himself  of  the  opinion  that  they  should  also 
take  the  Lapp  lad  with  them. 


FACE  TO  FACE  WITH  A  BEAR.  99 

"Just,"  he  added,  "as  a  kind  of  beast  of  burden." 

To  this  proposal  Olaf  gladly  consented.  So  the  Viking 
was  for  a  time  placed  in  charge  of  a  trustworthy  fisherman. 

The  conduct  of  Olaf  s  retainers  at  the  time  of  our  heroes' 
departure  in  search  of  adventure  and  of  the  picturesque,  was 
very  much  like  that  of  Highland  peasantry  towards  their 
lairds  or  chiefs  on  like  occasions.  A  thousand  blessings 
accompanied  them  as  they  took  their  way  up  towards  the* 
hills,  and  if  prayers  could  insure  their  safe  return,  they 
certainly  would  come  back  to  Holtval  both  happy  and  well. 

Winter  is  not  the  season  at  which  I  should  advise  the 
ordinary  tourist  to  visit  Norway,  yet  at  no  time  of  the  year 
is  the  wildly  picturesque,  nay,  savage,  nature  of  the  scenery 
better  displayed. 

The  explorers,  as  I  may  call  them,  made  a  journey  of 
over  thirty  miles  on  the  first  day.  This  is  not  a  big  record 
certainly,  but  then,  although  the  snow  was  good,  the  coun- 
try they  crossed  was  rough  and  difficult.  There  was  a  deal 
of  uphill  work  to  be  done,  and  a  good  deal  of  forest  work 
as  well,  so  that  it  was  almost  sunset  when  they  at  length 
arrived  at  the  head  of  a  valley,  in  which  was  a  village 
that,  whether  it  possessed  an  inn  or  not,  would  at  all 
events  afford  the  tourists  shelter. 

Smoke  was  curling  up  in  the  evening  air  from  many  a 
hut  and  hamlet.  Some  distance  higher  up  the  brae  was  a 
house  of  greater  pretensions.  So,  singing  a  song  in  which 
all  could  join,  Olaf  merrily  led  the  way  a-down  the  valley 
to  the  side  of  the  frozen  lake. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

FACE    TO   FACE   WITH   A   BEAR — ADVENTURES    ON   THE 
SNOW-CLAD   WILDS — TORN  TO   PIECES   BY  WOLVES. 

IT  had  been  no  part  of  Olaf's  programme  to  pay  a  visit  to 
the  house  on  the  hill.     He  knew  they  should  all  receive 
a  hearty  welcome  from  the  villagers,  whose  hospitality,  it  is 


100         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

well  known,  is  quite  on  a  par  with  that  of  the  Scottish 
Highlanders. 

Hearing  a  song  rising  lustily  on  the  still  air  of  evening 
and  swelling  up  the  mountain  -  side,  the  children  of  the 
village  ran  out  of  their  sheilings,  screaming  at  the  top  of 
their  merry  voices.  And  very  soon  their  elders  followed 
suit,  and  stood  there  wondering  and  shading  their  eyes 
with  their  palms  from  the  dazzling  glare  of  sunset  light 
reflected  down  from  the  snow-clad  hills. 

Before  our  heroes,  however,  could  reach  the  village,  an 
old  white-haired  man,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  a  beautiful 
young  girl,  emerged  from  the  forest  to  the  right,  and  stood 
right  in  their  path. 

The  old  man  hailed  them  with  uplifted  arm,  and  Olaf 
pulled  up. 

"Hallo,  sldlobersl"  he  cried  in  the  Norse.  "Right  wel- 
come to  my  little  village.  Get  off  your  shoes,  boys ;  dinner 
is  waiting,  and  the  fish  will  get  cold." 

The  maiden  laughed  merrily,  and  our  heroes  made  a  virtue 
of  obedience,  and  at  once  took  off  their  skier.  The  villagers 
were  a  little  disappointed,  for  they  had  expected  a  treat. 

Well,  it  was  just  as  the  old  man  had  said,  for  dinner  was 
being  dished. 

The  house  was  certainly  far  superior  to  the  usual  run  of 
huts  in  which  villagers  dwell,  and  which  consist  generally 
of  but  one  room,  with  fireplace,  but  no  chimney,  unless  a 
hole  in  the  roof  can  be  dignified  with  that  title,  or  of  one 
room  and  a  closet,  which  may  be  said  to  be  the  best  bed- 
room, and  smoke-room  for  fish,  all  in  one. 

Their  host's  house,  however,  contained  many  rooms.  It 
was,  indeed,  a  kind  of  mansion  on  a  small  scale,  and  the 
repast  set  before  Olaf  and  Colin  was  both  bountiful  and 
nutritious. 

The  first  course  consisted  of  a  kind  of  soup  of  game  and 
vegetables.  It  was,  indeed,  an  Irish  stew  without  the  pork. 
This  was  partaken  of  abundantly  by  all  around  the  table, 
and  with  it  slices  of  a  dark  kind  of  bread,  which,  despite  its 
colour,  was  both  wholesome  and  appetizing. 

Next  followed  most  excellent  and  well-cooked  fish  and 


FACE  TO  FACE  WITH  A  BEAR.          101 

vegetables,  with,  strangely  enough,  tea  for  the  ladies — the 
pretty  fair-haired  maid  and  her  mother.  The  host  himself 
partook  of  something  far  more  potent.  Perhaps  his  blood 
ran  cold  owing  to  his  great  age,  which  he  told  our  heroes 
was  considerably  over  ninety.  The  latter  politely  refused 
to  join  them,  but  did  their  duty  by  a  couple  of  tankards  of 
delicious  milk  that  a  servant  placed  beside  their  plates. 

The  last  dish  was  a  huge  one,  and  occupied  the  centre  of 
the  round  table. 

"We  eat  this,"  said  the  old  man,  "in  the  true  Norse 
style.  Follow  my  example." 

The  dish  consisted  of  thick  sour  milk,  on  top  of  which 
lay,  or  shall  I  say  stood,  a  kind  of  clotted  cream  several 
inches  deep.  It  was  really  very  palatable  and  good,  but  as 
every  one  ate  out  of  the  same  dish,  the  modus  operand*  was 
peculiar,  to  say  the  least  of  it. 

Meanwhile,  Sigurd  and  the  Lapp  lad  had  not  been  for- 
gotten. They  were  in  the  adjoining  room,  and  in  the 
intervals  of  conversation  could  be  heard  talking  and  laugh- 
ing right  merrily  with  the  servants  who  dined  with  them. 

After  dinner  the  young  lady  played  on  her  piano,  and 
sang  a  strange,  but  not  unmusical  kind  of  lilt  or  ballad  of 
great  length,  which  sent  the  old  gentleman  to  sleep  in  his 
big  straight-backed  chair,  and  almost  made  Colin  nod.  The 
ballad  was  all  in  the  Norse,  so  that  he  could  understand 
only  very  little  of  it.  But  Olaf  evidently  enjoyed  it 
immensely. 

An  adjournment,  proposed  by  the  old  man  himself,  was 
afterwards  made  to  the  next  room,  and  here,  while  smoking 
his  pipe  beside  a  roaring  fire,  and  surrounded  by  many  of 
his  servants,  as  well  as  people  from  the  village,  who  had 
dropped  in  promiscuously  as  it  were,  the  patriarch  related 
many  a  strange  story,  chiefly  of  the  chase  and  of  wild  ad- 
ventures among  the  mountains,  that  is,  among  the  fjelds. 
His  people  listened  entranced.  Even  Colin  Understood  a 
good  deal  of  what  was  said,  and  longed,  as  he  listened,  to 
emulate  some  of  those  doughty  deeds.  After  this,  one  of 
the  servants  sung  a  very  long  droning  ballad,  which  gave 
satisfaction  to  everybody  save  our  Scotch  hero. 


102         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE 

Then  the  patriarch  read  from  the  Good  Book,  and  prayed, 
and  thus  ended  the  evening. 

After  breakfast  next  day  they  were  asked  to  prolong  their 
stay,  but  thanking  the  good  people  kindly  with  many  a 
Tak  fur  maton,1  they  received  the  patriarch's  blessing  and 
left.  As  he  shook  hands  with  the  flaxen-haired  maiden, 
Colin  thought  he  could  perceive  tears  in  her  blue  eyes,  but 
then  even  he  may  have  been  mistaken. 

On  northwards  now  they  went  for  many  days,  never,  how- 
ever, sleeping  in  caves  or  under  the  snow-laden  trees,  for, 
sparsely  cultivated  though  the  country  is,  they  always 
managed  to  find  shelter  at  night.  Their  accommodation 
was  poor  enough  at  times.  They  were  always  pleased  when 
they  found  what  might  be  called  a  house  above  their  heads. 
Sometimes,  however,  the  house  was  the  merest  hut,  and 
sometimes  the  hut  was  the  merest  hovel. 

Their  strange  journey  lay  on  elevated  land  'twixt  the 
coast  and  a  range  of  mountains  that  were  beautiful  indeed, 
but  savage  in  the  extreme.  There  were  great  forest  lands 
also  to  be  skidded  through,  but  there  was  no  fear  of  being 
accosted  here  by  keepers. 

When  three  or  four  days  out,  and  well  up  towards  the 
north,  Colin  had  an  adventure  with  a  bear  that  was  all  but 
putting  an  end  to  his  career  for  ever  and  aye.  He  was  some 
distance  ahead  of  his  party  and  close  to  the  edge  of  the 
forest, — which  he  was  about  to  enter,  as  they  were  then 
travelling  as  much  as  possible  in  a  bee-line, — when  he  noticed 
Mr.  Bruin  in  the  wood.  He  was  a  huge,  brownish,  very 
shaggy  monster,  and  looked  lean  along  the  back. 

He  certainly  was  hungry,  and  probably  thought  that 
there  would  be  some  very  tender  pickings  on  a  young  fellow 
like  Colin. 

Now,  as  we  already  know,  Colin  was  a  good  shot,  but  his 
hands  this  afternoon  were  so  cold  as  to  be  practically  useless. 
The  monster  was  on  him  before  he  could  fire  a  second  time 
— he  had  fired  once  and  missed.  The  roar  that  Bruin  gave 
as  he  sprang  upon  his  intended  victim  would  have  terrified 
and  paralysed  a  lad  of  less  nerve,  but  Colin  stood  his  ground 

i  Thanks  for  the  good  fare  or  food. 


FACE  TO  FACE  WITH  A  BEAR.          103 

and  struck  out  manfully  with  the  butt-end  of  his  rifle. 
The  blow  told  home  on  the  beast's  head. 

Ill  would  it  have  fared,  however,  with  Colin,  had  not  at 
that  very  moment  Sigurd,  knife  in  hand,  closed  with  Bruin. 

A  man  and  bear  fight1?  Yes,  but  it  lasted  but  for  a  few 
seconds,  for  Sigurd  knew  where  to  hit,  and  the  bear  was 
soon  lying  dead  enough  on  the  snow.  He  was  skinned,  and 
the  trophy  was  rolled  up  and  given  to  the  Lapp  lad  to 
carry. 

Strange  to  say,  they  killed  two  more  bears  in  this  very 
W0od — with  their  guns,  and  not  at  close  quarters — that 
afternoon.  It  seemed,  therefore,  that  they  were  on  the  edge 
of  a  Bruin-haunted  forest.  Getting  through  it  at  last,  they 
crossed  a  frozen  lake,  crossed  a  hill,  passed  through  another 
forest,  then  descending  by  the  side  of  a  half-frozen  stream 
that  formed  cataract  after  cataract,  they  presently  found 
themselves  at  the  top  of  a  fjord  of  singularly  wild  aspect. 
Here,  however,  was  a  village,  and,  as  luck  would  have  it,  a 
village  inn. 

Before  he  consented  to  stay  here,  however,  Olaf  disposed 

of  his  bear-skins  to  the  landlord,  which  showed  he  had  a 

;ood  head  for  business.     Then  he  bargained  for  his  night's 

ard  and  that  of  his  party. 

The  inn  was  a  sturdy,  square,  log  building,  and  could  boast 
of  several  fairly  good  bed-rooms,  for  in  the  sweet  summer- 
time, when  woods  and  fields  were  green,  and  the  hills 
carpeted  with  flowers,  many  tourists  made  the  inn  their 
home. 

Before  leaving  in  the  morning  our  skilobers  replenished 
their  haversacks  with  the  very  best  food  that  was  procurable 
in  the  village,  for  in  the  more  rural  districts  or  small  towns 
at  the  side  of  the  fjords,  they  had  to  rough  it  severely  in  the 
matter  of  food  as  well  as  accommodation.  Their  best  beds 
were  often  but  a  deal  plank  or  bench  beside  the  fire,  their 
bed-clothes  only  their  plaids,  and  their  bed-fellows — whisper 
it — fleas. 

To  add  to  the  discomfort  the  fire — which  was  a  necessity, 
so  hard  was  the  frost — usually  filled  the  place  with  stifling 
wood-smoke,  so  that  the  only  way  they  could  sleep  in  com- 


104          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE 

fort  was  by  covering  the  head  and  face  entirely  up  with  a 
single  fold  of  the  useful  plaid. 

But  seldom,  indeed,  could  the  good  and  kindly  peasantry 
be  prevailed  upon  to  accept  any  money,  for  the  food  and 
accommodation  that  our  heroes  received.  When  they  did 
so,  it  was  with  such  reluctance  that  it  was  evident  enough 
they  imagined  that  the  money  would  bring  them  bad  luck. 

About  a  fortnight  after  their  start  they  found  themselves 
very  far  north  indeed,  and  now  the  country  was  becoming 
even  more  sparsely  inhabited  and,  if  anything,  wilder. 
They  came  one  evening  to  a  village  near  to  a  great  inland 
lake,  and  were  somewhat  surprised  to  find  so  many  people 
assembled;  but  they  soon  found  out  that  a  great  ski-ing  race 
was  to  be  held  on  the  morrow,  and  a  feast  of  venison  in  the 
evening.  So  our  little  party  determined  to  stay  for  the 
sports. 

First  came  the  races,  and  not  only  Olaf  and  Sigurd,  but 
Colin  himself  entered  for  these. 

They  had  a  long  climb  to  the  starting-point,  which  was 
high  up  in  the  forest.  The  course  was  a  mile  long,  and 
downhill  all  the  way,  though  not  dangerously  so.  The  snow 
was  in  famous  condition,  so  that  the  racing  was  very  excit- 
ing indeed. 

Olaf  won  easily,  race  after  race,  till  at  last  competitors 
would  only  enter  on  the  condition  that  he  should  he  handi- 
capped. 

Sigurd  and  the  "beast  of  burden",  or  Lapp  lad — it  really 
was  cruel  to  designate  him  so,  but  no  insult  was  meant, — 
were  more  clumsy,  and  as  for  Colin,  he  entered  for  the  races 
freely  enough,  but  somehow  he  always  managed  to  lose  first 
his  head  and  then  his  feet,  and  so  got  beautifully  rolled  out 
of  it.  Never  mind,  he  enjoyed  the  fun  as  much  as  any- 
body, and  was  just  as  hungry  at  eventide  when  the  great 
feast  of  elk  came  on. 

The  elk  was  well  cooked,  but  having  only  been  killed  a 
day  or  two  before,  it  was  somewhat  tough.  However, 
hunger  is  sweet  sauce.  So  our  boys  managed  to  make  a 
fairly  good  meal. 

But  how  shall  I  describe  the  performances  of  Sigurd  and 


ADVENTURES   ON   THE   SNOW-CLAD   WILDS.  105 

that  Lapp  lad.  I  should  try  in  vain.  I  will  only  give 
them  the  credit  of  eating  slowly.  But  had  they  been  eating 
for  a  wager,  they  could  not  have  kept  it  up  longer.  It 
seemed  a  dreadfully  serious  matter  with  the  pair  of  them, 
and  I  really  think  that  if  they  had  not  touched  food  again 
for  a  week  they  would  not  have  died  of  starvation. 

The  sleeping  accommodation  that  night  was  on  benches 
in  a  large  barn-like  house.  But  Colin  slept  but  little,  for 
every  bench  had  a  pair,  at  least,  of  sleepers  thereon,  and  as 
every  one  of  these  snored  in  a  different  key,  I  need  hardly 
say  that  the  music  they  made  was  not  conducive  to  dream- 
less slumber. 

Next  day  our  heroes  joined  a  party  of  elk-hunters,  who 
were  going  to  run  these  antlered  monarchs  of  the  north 
down  on  skier,  and  the  sport  promised  to  be  very  good. 

Some  of  the  skier  worn  by  the  hunters  were  nearly  ten 
feet  long,  with  fastenings  of  the  very  roughest  description. 
They  were  comparatively  narrow,  that  is,  they  corresponded 
in  breadth  of  beam  to  that  of  the  wearer's  boot.  Now, 
as  a  Norseman,  though  not  usually  very  tall,  wears  a  large 
and  useful  foot — no,  I  don't  mean  boot — their  skier  were 
quite  as  broad  as  those  of  Olaf  or  Colin. 

The  journey  was  a  long  one,  and  the  travelling  was  some- 
what arduous. 

How  pleased  our  heroes  must  have  been  that  they  brought 
Ghillie,  the  collie,  with  them,  may  be  learned  from  the 
following  instance  of  the  honest  dog's  extreme  sagacity. 
It  was  in  a  snow-bound  wood  where  the  party  was  ski- 
lobning. 

"Is  it  all  safe1?"  Olaf  had  just  sang  out  to  those  behind. 

"  All  safe,"  was  the  reply  that  came  back  down  the  wind. 
Olaf,  as  usual,  was  a  considerable  distance  ahead,  but  none 
of  the  party  were  going  at  any  great  rate,  although  descend- 
ing a  hill.  Suddenly  the  dog,  who  was  leading,  began  to 
bark  in  a  most  frantic  manner.  It  was  well  for  Olaf,  well 
for  all,  indeed,  that  the  hint  was  taken.  Our  young  Norse 
hero  stopped  himself  with  his  pole.  None  too  soon;  he 
was  on  the  very  brink  of  a  fearful  chasm,  so  close  indeed 
that  it  was  with  some  difficulty  he  got  away,  and  the  snow 


106          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

dislodged  by  his  feet  actually  rolled  over  the  brink  into 
space. 

The  elk-hunters  that  day  managed  to  secure  five  of  these 
animals,  and  four  more  fell  to  the  guns  of  Colin  and  Olaf. 
The  hunters  were  therefore  very  happy,  for  not  only 
would  they  have  pickled  meat  for  many  a  day,  but  skins 
wherewith  to  make  caps  and  gloves.  Indeed,  every  portion 
of  this  wild  deer  is  made  use  of,  even  the  very  hoofs  being 
boiled  down  to  make  glue. 

The  day  had  not  passed  over  without  another  adventure 
which,  but  for  the  ready  use  Colin  made  of  his  rifle,  would 
assuredly  have  ended  fatally  to  one  of  the  hunters.  One 
of  the  elks  after  being  wounded  turned  fiercely  at  bay.  In 
trying  to  escape  its  vengeance  a  hunter  fell.  The  beast  in 
its  fury  fell  over  the  man,  thus  missing  its  aim.  Before  it 
could  arrange  for  another  blow  Colin  fired,  though  at  the 
of  risk  killing  the  man,  who  now  crawled  out  from  under 
the  dead  deer,  unhurt  certainly,  yet  very  much  fright- 
ened. 

But  though  the  elk  is  thus  made  the  subject  of  good 
sport  in  winter  by  the  Norseman,  and  thereby  affords  them 
food  and  many  comforts  besides,  the  autumn  is  the  usual 
hunting  season. 

Not  far  from  the  place  where  the  last  elk  was  killed  was 
a  little  village,  and  here  the  whole  party  found  shelter  for 
the  night.  This  village  could  boast  of  a  large  amusement 
hall.  It  had  been  built  by  the  head  man  of  the  place,  whose 
house  was  high  up  on  the  hill,  and  a  very  pretentious  kind 
of  a  mansion  it  was. 

The  owner  was  a  mighty  hunter — a  kind  of  norland 
Nimrod — and  after  dinner  he  entertained  Colin  and  Olaf 
with  many  a  strange  story  of  his  adventures. 

What  a  pleasure  it  would  have  been  to  a  naturalist  to 
have  met  with  such  a  man  as  this,  for  although  he  might 
have  been  unable  to  give  the  Latin  names  for  any  of  the 
denizens  of  the  wilds,  or  tell  their  proper  classification,  there 
was  not  a  creature  in  hair,  fur,  or  feather  that  he  did  not 
know  the  habits  of.  And  no  wonder,  for  Kristiansen,  as  he 
was  called,  had  lived  in  the  wilds  nearly  all  his  life,  and  his 


ADVENTURES  ON  THE  SNOW-CLAD  WILDS.  107 

name  was  well  known  to  every  sportsman  from  one  end  of 
Norway  to  the  other. 

"Ah!"  he  said,  in  the  course  of  conversation,  "reindeer 
shooting  is  not  now  quite  what  it  was  in  my  young  days. 
There  is  here  in  Norway  too  much  game  preserving  as  in 
your  country,  young  sir.  But  in  my  time  I  have  killed  five 
great  deer  in  one  day,  and  with  an  ordinary  muzzle-loading 
rifle  too.  Had  I  possessed  weapons  like  yours,  young 
gentlemen,  I  should  have  required  half  a  dozen  men  to  bear 
home  the  skins  of  the  deer  I  should  have  killed. 

"  Good  sport?  I  should  think  it  was.  And  I  have  never 
heard  or  known  of  any  that  is,  or,  let  me  say,  was,  more 
healthful  and  bracing.  What  limbs  we  used  to  have  on  us 
in  those  days  to  be  sure,  and  what  appetites.  Ah!  I  am 
getting  old  now,  and  there  are  times  when  I  can  neither  eat 
much  nor  sleep  much.  But  in  these  days  it  would  have 
astonished  you  to  see  the  suppers  we  put  under  our  belts, 
and  as  for  sleep,  why  our  heads  were  no  sooner  down  than 
we  were  off.  Awoke  refreshed  though,  always;  then  a  dip 
in  the  nearest  stream,  or  five  minutes  of  a  shower-bath 
under  the  edge  of  a  waterfall,  made  men  of  us,  and  after 
breakfast  we  were  off  to  the  hills  again. 

"  Young  sir,"  he  continued,  addressing  Colin,  "  you  have 
come  at  the  wrong  time  of  the  year  to  see  our  wild  and 
beautiful  land  at  its  best.  Three  months  later  on — about 
the  middle  of  May — then  summer  bursts  upon  us  all  in  a 
week,  arrayed  in  a  ferny  and  floral  beauty  that  would  dazzle 
your  eyes,  and  our  pine-trees  are  green,  our  spruces  fingered 
over  with  shoots  of  the  tenderest  emerald,  our  larches  all  in 
tassels  and  buds  of  brightest  crimson,  and  ferns  and  fox- 
gloves growing  and  waving  in  every  woodland.  Our 
streams,  our  lakes,  our  innumerable  waterfalls  never  look  to 
greater  advantage  than  they  do  in  later  May,  nor  our  rolling 
woods,  nor  our  hills  and  snow-peaked  mountains.  Oh !  a 
Norseland  spring  is  a  joyous,  gladsome  time." 

"And  your  song-birds,"  said  Colin;  "your  woodlands 
must  then  be  filled  with  bird-song?" 

"Ah!  yes;  our  song-birds  have  ever  been  favourites  of 
mine." 


108         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

He  ceased  talking  for  a  moment  or  two,  his  eyes  follow- 
ing the  clouds  of  tobacco-smoke  that  went  curling  ceiling- 
wards  from  his  enormous  pipe. 

"I  can  hardly  say  which  of  all  the  song-birds  of  our 
nor'land  woods  and  hills  is  my  especial  favourite.  I  have 
travelled  much  in  Scotland,  and,  though  I  may  be  preju- 
diced, I  cannot  help  thinking  that  our  thrushes  sing  more 
merrily  than  yours,  and  that  our  blackbirds  flute  more 
melodiously.  The  reason  may  be  that  here  in  Norway  we 
have  few,  if  any,  bird-catchers,  and  so  the  birds  have 
greater  peace. 

"Then  our  warblers,  they  are  at  least  five  times  as 
numerous  as  yours,  and  sweetly  indeed  they  sing.  And 
our  swallows  warble  very  sweetly  too.  But  our  pipits  also 
are  delightful,  and  away  on  some  of  the  quiet  sunny  uplands 
or  grassy  table-lands,  it  is  a  heavenly  treat  to  lie  and  listen 
to  the  melody  of  the  skylark." 

This  old  sportsman  and  naturalist,  I  should  mention,  had 
travelled  much  in  Britain,  and  could  talk  very  good  English 
indeed. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  the  song  of  the  lark  is  a  marvellous 
performance,  even  if  we  but  take  into  consideration  the 
power  it  possesses  of  keeping  up  the  melody  so  long,  every 
note  clear  and  ringing  to  the  very  last  plaintive  wail  as  it 
descends  to  the  grass  some  distance  from — never  quite  close 
to — the  spot  where  his  liquid-eyed  and  lovely  mate  sits 
close  on  those  brown  eggs  of  hers,  her  bonnie  breast  wet 
mayhap  with  the  morning  dews.  Is  it  not  your  poet 
Shakespeare  who  sings : 

"  '  Hark,  hark,  the  lark  at  heaven's  gate  sings, 

And  Phoebus  'gins  arise, 
His  steeds  to  water  at  those  springs 

On  chaliced  flowers  that  lies ; 
And  winking  Mary-buds  begin 

To  ope  their  golden  eyes.' " 

Ghillie  was  standing  beside  the  naturalist,  his  head  upon 
his  knee.  The  old  man  was  gently  caressing  him. 

"Every  dog  loves  me,"  he  said,  "but  this  breed  is  one  I 


ADVENTURES   ON   THE   SNOW-CLAD   WILDS.  109 

dearly  love,  although  I  fear  that  in  the  sporting  field  he 
would  be  of  but  little  use. 

"  But  your  England  and  your  Scotland  too  are  the  homes 
for  good  dogs.  Ah!  old  as  I  am,  and  I  am  bordering  on 
eighty,  I  still  go  to  the  hill  at  times,  though  I  do  not  see  so 
well  now,  nor  can  I  walk  so  far;  but  some  day  I  promise 
myself  the  treat  to  visit  your  Highlands,  young  sir,  and 
bring  back  with  me  some  of  your  great  deerhounds." 

"My  uncle  and  I  will  be  delighted  to  have  you  as  a 
guest,"  said  Colin  enthusiastically. 

"  Thanks,  a  thousand." 

"But,  tell  me,  sir,  have  you  still  the  lynx  in  Norway?" 

"  Ah,  we  had  a  kind  of  lynx  long  ago  in  this  country,  and 
a  wild  and  ferocious  animal  he  was.  I  have  killed  them, 
and  they  have  slain  my  dogs.  It  dwells,  or  used  to  dwell, 
in  the  wilder  and  more  lonesome  mountain  recesses.  We 
have  the  wolf  also.  They,  too,  are  getting  rare.  But  a  lynx 
will  lay  dead  the  largest  wolf  we  ever  see  in  Norway,  and 
suck  his  blood  afterwards;  but  its  usual  food  is  the  grouse, 
the  ptarmigan,  and  sometimes  the  capercailzie." 

"  Yes,  we  too  have  the  capercailzie  in  our  Scottish  forests, 
a  kind  of  wild  turkey  we  may  call  it,  that  lives  much  in  trees." 

"True,  and  runs  much  upon  the  ground." 

"And  the  fox,  sir;  you  have  that  wild  animal?" 

"Yes,  we  have  two  kinds;  we  have  the  common  fox  of 
your  native  land,  and  we  have  also,  farther  to  the  north,  the 
Arctic  fox,  which,  as  you  doubtless  know,  is  smaller  than 
the  other,  and  becomes  pure  white  in  winter." 

"  But  you  do  not  pursue  it  with  hounds  and  horses  as 
they  do  in  England?" 

"  No,  young  sir,  it  would  be  as  impossible  thus  to  hunt 
the  fox  in  Norway  as  in  your  own  wild  Scottish  Highlands. 

"And  now,  gentlemen,  a  certain  degree  of  weariness, 
incidental  to  men  of  my  age  at  this  time  of  the  night, 
tells  me  it  is  bed-time.  What  say  you,  to  take  your 
candles?" 

"  Good-night,  then.  Sound  sleep,  and  angels  watch  around 
your  pillow." 


110         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

When  our  heroes  were  awakened  next  morning  by  the 
servant,  who  told  them  that  breakfast  was  nearly  ready, 
Olaf  called  to  the  man  to  come  in. 

He  entered,  bearing  a  lighted  lamp,  which  he  placed  upon 
the  table. 

"  My  good  man,"  said  Olaf  in  Norse,  "  are  you  sure  that 
you  have  not  made  a  mistake1?  Is  it  usual  for  people  in 
your  part  of  the  country  to  get  up  in  the  middle  of  the 
night?" 

"We  are  snowed  up  almost,"  answered  the  man;  "and 
listen  to  the  wind,  young  gentlemen.  Ha!  it  will  be  days 
before  you  leave  our  house.  But  master  will  indeed  be 
pleased  to  have  you." 

The  wind  was  howling  around  the  house  in  a  most  mourn- 
ful and  dreary  manner,  and  the  cold  was  intense.  Olaf 
pulled  up  the  blind,  and  held  the  lamp  to  the  window  that 
Colin  might  see.  Every  pane  of  glass  was  frozen  with  the 
thickest  frost-flowers  ever  he  had  seen.  No  wonder  Colin 
lay  back  for  a  few  minutes  and  covered  his  head  with  the 
warm  bed-clothes. 

The  lamps  were  burning  on  the  breakfast-table  when 
they  entered  the  room.  A  splendid  fire  was  roaring  on  the 
low  hearth,  and  their  host  advanced  with  a  most  kindly 
smile  on  his  still  handsome  face  to  bid  them  good-morning. 

"Ah!"  he  said  laughing,  "you  will  be  prisoners  here 
for  days.  And  I  am  quite  pleased;  so  make  yourselves  at 
home." 

"That  we  will,"  said  Colin;  "and  I  assure  you,  sir,  I  am 
also  pleased  to  have  this  break  in  our  journey,  and  to  have 
such  delightful  company  as  yours." 

"And  now  be  seated.     Eat  and  live." 

They  did  eat,  and  they  felt  very  like  living  indeed. 
Only  they  would  have  much  preferred  life  out  of  doors. 
This,  however,  was  not  to  be  thought  of  for  the  present. 
Seldom  even  in  his  own  wild  land  had  Colin  heard  the 
snow- wind  howl  as  it  howled  to-day  around  the  naturalist's 
house  and  through  the  woods.  It  blew  a  blizzard,  indeed, 
that  the  strongest  man  could  not  have  stood  against.  The 
air  was  filled  with  ice-dust,  the  thermometer  in  the  natura- 


TORN   TO   PIECES  BY  WOLVES.  Ill 

list's  hall  stood  three  degrees  below  zero,  and  any  attempt 
at  an  excursion  beyond  the  gates  would  have  meant  suffoca- 
tion. 

For  some  time  after  breakfast  their  host  buried  himself 
behind  the  clouds  of  smoke  that  he  raised  from  his  pipe. 
Then  he  pulled  himself  together  as  it  were. 

"I  fear,"  he  said  smiling,  "I  am  but  a  poor  enter- 
tainer." 

"Not  at  all!"  said  Olaf  and  Colin  speaking  simultane- 
ously. 

Then  the  old  man  launched  out  into  what  he  called  snow 
stories,  and  told  them  of  the  many  escapes  he  had  had  in 
mountain  districts  long,  long  ago.  So  interested  were  the 
boys  that  they  took  no  heed  of  time,  and  servants  came  in 
to  lay  the  table  for  the  early  dinner  before,  apparently,  the 
breakfast  had  been  cleared  away. 

There  was  no  abatement  in  the  violence  of  this  terrible 
storm  for  two  whole  days.  Even  when  the  sun  did  con- 
descend to  shine  at  last,  and  the  wind  had  ceased  to  blow, 
our  heroes  found  that  the  roads  were  entirely  blocked  with 
snow,  and  much  of  the  country  seemingly  impassable,  so 
that  a  detention  of  four  or  five  days  more  in  this  hospitable 
Norse  home  was  imperative. 

"How  glad  we  may  be  to  find  ourselves  here,"  Colin  said 
more  than  once. 

"Ah!  yes,"  said  Kristiansen,  "you  are  lucky,  as  the  say- 
ing is,  though  I  myself  believe  not  in  chance  nor  luck.  It 
was  Providence  that  led  you  here,  lads,  depend  upon  it. 
But  for  the  kindness  of  God,  your  bodies  might  at  this 
moment  be  lying  on  the  fjelds,  or  torn  to  pieces  by  hungry 
wolves." 

"  You  have  had  many  adventures  with  wolves,  sir?" 

"They  are  ugly  customers,"  said  the  old  sportsman, 
"  when  rendered  savage  by  hunger  and  starvation.  It  is  in 
snow-time  they  are  most  fierce  and  dangerous,  when  they 
destroy  the  elk  and  the  reindeer,  and  even  sheep.  They 
often  lay  wait  for  the  deer  near  a  frozen  lake,  and  are 
wily  enough  to  lead  them  on  to  the  ice,  where  they  flounder 
about  and  become  an  easy  prey  to  these  fiends  incarnate. 


112          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"  They  will  even  kill  and  devour  dogs  when  pressed  with 
hunger,  and  have  been  known  to  attack  a  village  and  keep 
the  people  prisoners  in  their  houses  for  days. 

"Heigho!"  he  continued,  "it  does  not  seem  more  than  a 
year  ago,  and  yet  it  is  twenty  since  I  left  my  poor  faithful 
serving-man  sick  in  a  sheltered  cave  high  among  the  hills, 
I  had  no  idea  there  were  wolves  around,  and  had  gone  to 
look  for  venison.  The  poor  fellow  told  me  he  could  sleep, 
and  that  by  the  time  I  returned  he  would  be  fit  for  the  hill 
again. 

"Alas!  sleep  he  did,  and  it  was  the  sleep  of  death.  It 
still  wanted  two  hours  of  sunset  when  I  returned,  and  the 
sight  that  met  my  gaze  as  I  came  near  the  cave  was  one 
I  am  never  likely  to  forget.  I  felt  faint,  I  staggered  and 
leaned  on  my  pole,  else  I  should  have  fallen.  My  poor 
faithful  Jan  was  literally  torn  to  fragments,  which  were 
scattered  about  everywhere,  but  more  than  half  devoured. 

"  There  were  evidences,  too,  of  a  terrible  struggle  having 
taken  place.  Here  lay  Jan's  broken  pole,  and  yonder  the 
hand  that  had  held  it.  0,  it  was  sickening,  and  there  was 
blood,  blood,  everywhere  on  the  trampled  snow!  And 
though  blood  upon  snow  is  brown,  it  is  none  the  less  fear- 
some if  it  be  the  blood  of  one  you  have  loved  and  cared  for. 
I  trust  in  the  Lord,  young  friends,  you  may  never  have  so 
terrible  an  experience." 


CHAPTER  X. 

AMONG   THE   WANDERING   LAPPS — THE   COMING   OF 
SUMMER. 

HHHREE  weeks  after  this  we  find  our  heroes  far  away  up 
_L  in  Finland  itself.  They  have  followed  the  snow,  for 
though  spring  is  already  showing  signs  of  its  advent  down 
in  the  south,  here  in  this  wild  land  winter  still  reigns  secure. 
We  left  them  at  the  house  of  the  old  hunter  and  naturalist, 
Kristiansen.  We  left  them  storm-stayed,  and  for  a  time  it 


AMONG  THE  WANDERING   LAPPS.  113 

was  thought  that  they  must  abandon  any  attempt  to  pene- 
trate farther  north.  They  had  held  a  council,  and  had  even 
asked  the  old  man's  advice. 

"  I  shall  withhold  it,"  he  answered,  burying  himself  in  a 
cloud  of  smoke,  "until  I  hear  what  you  yourselves  will 
say." 

Sigurd's  opinion  was  that  the  journey  would  be  ex- 
tremely hazardous,  if  not  indeed  impossible,  for  the  cre- 
vasses would  be  filled  up  with  soft  snow,  into  which  they 
might  slip  and  be  seen  no  more. 

Asked  for  his  opinion,  Colin  gave  it  in  a  very  few  words. 
"  Whate'er  a  man  dares  he  can  do." 

Olaf  also  thought  it  could  be  managed  by  using  caution. 

The  Lapp  lad  said  with  a  shrug  of  his  broad  shoulders 
and  a  grin  from  ear  to  ear,  "I'll  follow  my  master  if  it 
should  be  over  a  cliff  or  a  cataract." 

"What  do  you  say,  GhillieT'  said  the  old  hunter  at 
last. 

"  Wowf!  wowf !"  barked  Ghillie  joyously. 

"  I  think  the  dog  is  right,"  said  their  host. 

This  was  certainly  talking  like  an  oracle,  for  the  dog's 
bark,  although  it  certainly  sounded  like  a  willing  and  joyous 
one,  might  have  meant  anything. 

A  wild  and  dangerous  journey  it  had  been.  Away  on 
the  uplands  the  ground  was  blown  pretty  clear  of  snow, 
but  here  were  many  precipices  half  hidden,  which  to  ven- 
ture near  might  have  meant  an  ugly  death,  so  the  progress 
was  naturally  slow.  Once  they  crossed  a  glacier  which 
seemed  to  have  no  end,  and  here,  too,  it  was  bitterly, 
piercingly  cold.  They  got  lower  down  among  the  glens 
after  this,  where  here  and  there  they  found  the  shelter  of 
stunted  woods  and  forests.  Several  times  they  had  to 
bivouac  all  night  under  trees ! 

Nothing,  indeed,  but  the  determined  will  of  Britons  or 
Norsemen  could  have  enabled  them  to  bear  up  against  such 
hardships.  In  the  higher  regions,  too,  which  they  often 
crossed  in  order  to  make  their  line  of  march  as  straight  and 
short  as  possible,  there  was  frost-bite  to  be  guarded  against; 

(  988  )  H 


114         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

and  this  was  an  experience  that  each  in  turn  had  a  taste  of, 
and  a  bitter  one  it  is,  as  I  myself  can  testify. 

As  to  sport,  this  was  fairly  good.  Too  good,  the  Lapp 
lad  would  have  said,  if  asked,  for  he  had  to  carry  the  skins. 
They  shot  more  than  one  bear,  besides  several  foxes,  and 
more  than  one  otter.  They  saw  no  wolves,  and  although 
they  spent  a  whole  day  in  a  ravine  high  up  among  the  hills, 
where  they  had  been  told  these  terrible  animals  resided,  they 
did  not  even  catch  sight  of  one. 

Elk  and  reindeer  they  stalked  and  shot  in  abundance,  but 
took  away  with  them  only  the  skins  and  the  tongues;  but 
when  anywhere  near  a  village  the  inhabitants  were  only  too 
glad  to  go  back  on  the  track  and  bring  in  the  carcases. 

And  now,  here  they  were  among  Lapps;  only  in  a  kind 
of  temporary  hamlet,  however,  for  the  tribe  they  found 
themselves  bivouacked  with  were  a  wandering  one.  Hospi- 
table these  squat  and  far-from-handsome  men  undoubtedly 
were,  but  the  huts  they  dwelt  in,  from  an  Englishman's 
point  of  view,  would  have  been  called  squalid  in  the  extreme. 

It  was  for  the  most  part  reindeer  that  these  Lapps  were 
in  pursuit  of,  but  nevertheless  they  hunted  and  killed  all 
kinds  of  animals,  from  bears  to  marmots.  To  their  intense 
joy  Colin  and  Olaf  found  that  they  had  indeed  arrived  in  a 
kind  of  hunter's  paradise.  The  Lapps  were  none  the  less 
rejoiced.  They  had  seen  men  with  guns  before,  but  never 
men  carrying  arms  of  such  remarkable  precision  as  those  our 
heroes  possessed.  They  looked  upon  them,  therefore,  as  a 
great  acquisition,  and  hardly  knew  how  kind  to  be  to  them. 

They  gave  their  young  guests  the  first  and  best  of  every- 
thing, including  the  fattest  and  choicest  morsels  of  stewed 
reindeer,  fresh  from  the  pot,  and  served  up  by  the  hands — 
I  cannot  say  fair  hands — of  daughter  or  mistress  herself. 

The  dogs  with  which  the  Lapps  ran  down  the  deer,  which 
they  afterwards  finished  off  with  their  spears  and  knives, 
were  a  wretched,  half-wild  pack.  For  a  time  they  could 
scarcely  make  out  what  kind  of  animal  Ghillie  was,  and  one 
prick-eared  cur  went  so  far  as  to  insult  the  collie.  Then 
Ghillie's  Scotch  blood  got  up,  and  he  soon  let  them  see  what 
sort  of  animal  he  was.  After  this  there  was  peace. 


AMONG  THE  WANDERING  LAPPS.  115 

It  was  not  only  shooting  and  sJcilobning  that  our  heroes 
enjoyed  in  this  rude  but  hospitable  settlement,  but  sleighing 
as  well,  behind  the  reindeer.  01  af  ventured  on  board  one 
of  these  coffin-shaped  sledges  first.  The  fiery  steed  was 
prettily  caparisoned  in  trappings  of  red  and  black,  and  no 
sooner  was  he  fastened  to  the  vehicle  than  he  evinced  an 
inclination  to  be  off.  Olaf  was  already  half-repentant,  but 
he  could  not  now  draw  back  with  honour;  so  he  quickly 
seated  himself,  the  reins  were  handed  to  him,  and  away  he 
flew. 

But  whither?  Well,  this  was  a  question  that  till  now  he 
had  not  thought  of  settling.  He  must  do  so  soon,  however, 
for  he  was  being  dragged  along  at  a  tremendous  rate,  and  in 
a  few  minutes  was  miles  from  the  encampment. 

The  sensation  was  exceedingly  pleasant — entrancing,  he 
called  it,  when  afterwards  describing  it  to  Colin.  This  was 
when  he  was  trying  to  induce  his  friend  to  embark  and  go 
for  a  ride  of  the  same  kind.  But  there  was  one  portion  of 
his  experience  he  kept  to  himself  until  some  time  afterwards. 
It  was  as  follows : 

After  he  had  got  far  away  from  camp,  and  was  crossing 
a  wide  and  lonesome  lake,  the  reindeer  suddenly  slackened 
his  pace  and  looked  round. 

"  Go  on,"  cried  Olaf,  in  Norse. 

Then  that  reindeer  lost  his  temper,  and  turned  upon  his 
driver.  But.  Olaf  knew  exactly  what  to  do.  In  a  moment 
he  had  tumbled  himself  out  of  the  sledge  and  turned  it 
right  over  him.  The  reindeer  spent  his  fury  on  the  tough 
bottom  of  the  sledge,  almost  broke  one  horn,  gave  himself  a 
headache,  then  backed  off,  apparently  sick  and  sorry  for  it. 
Then  Olaf  took  his  steed  in  charge  once  more,  and  after 
riding  a  few  miles  managed  to  turn  and  head  for  the  en- 
campment, which  he  reached  in  safety. 

But  Colin's  experience  was  by  no  means  a  dangerous  one. 
The  same  deer  dragged  him,  but  went  easy  all  the  way,  and 
made  no  attempt  to  turn  and  rip  him  up.  Perhaps  the 
beast  had  not  quite  recovered  from  his  headache. 

These  tame  reindeer  are  kept  in  droves  by  the  Lapps,  and 
guarded  or  herded  together  by  men  and  dogs.  Perhaps  if 


116         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

these  semi-savages  were  kinder  to  their  canine  friends  and 
fed  them  better,  they  would  do  better  work.  As  it  is,  one 
well-trained  Scotch  sheep-dog  could  do  the  work  of  a  dozen 
such  curs. 

There  were  signs  now  that  the  spring  was  advancing  even 
as  far  as  this  northern  land,  so  our  heroes  bade  their  kind 
entertainers  farewell,  and  journeyed  on  a  day's  journey 
farther,  to  gaze  on  the  Polar  Ocean  from  the  shore. 

It  was,  I  need  hardly  say,  with  feelings  akin  to  awe  that 
Olaf  and  his  little  party  stood  on  a  terrible  cliff-top  one  day 
and  gazed  Pole-wards  over  the  black  waters  of  that  heaving 
sea.  The  rocks  rose  almost  sheer  up  from  the  ocean  to  a 
height  of  about  one  thousand  feet.  Not  a  sound  was  here 
to  be  heard,  except  the  sullen  moan  of  the  breakers  far 
beneath  and  the  mournful  cry  of  the  sea-birds.  The  sea 
itself  was  open  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  only  here  and 
there  lay  pieces  of  ice,  some  clad  in  virgin  snow,  others 
clear  and  green  and  wave-washed. 

It  was  a  solitary,  but  a  solemn  and  impressive  scene. 

"  Here  rocks  on  rocks  in  mist  and  storm  arrayed, 
Stretch  far  to  sea  their  giant  colonnade, 
With  many  a  cavern  seamed,  the  dreary  haunt 
Of  the  dim  seal  and  swarthy  cormorant ; 
Wild  round  their  rifted  brows  with  frequent  cry 
As  of  lament,  the  gulls  and  gannets  fly, 
And  from  their  sable  base,  with  sullen  sound, 
In  sheets  of  whitening  foam  the  waves  rebound." 

Yet,  dreary  though  the  scene  was,  Colin  could  not  help 
gazing  almost  lovingly  towards  the  invisible  beyond.  The 
glamour  of  the  ice-king  was  still  around  him. 

"  Olaf,"  he  said  at  last,  laughing  as  he  spoke,  "  you  will 
think  me  a  fool,  but  I  feel  under  a  spell,  and  I'd  give  all  I 
possess — though  tha  j  need  excite  envy  in  no  one — to  visit 
those  far-off  lands  that  lie  around  the  Pole." 

"Lands?"  said  Olaf,  talking  as  if  to  himself.  "Lands! 
I  think  we  will  find  when  we  get  there  that  they  are  seas, 
not  lands.  Perhaps!" 

Colin  touched  his  friend  on  the  shoulder,  for  Olaf  was  not 
looking  in  his  direction  as  he  spoke,  but  to  the  north. 


AMONG   THE   WANDERING   LAPPS.  117 

"Were  you  speaking  to  me,  Olafl" 
"  I  hardly  know  what  I  did  say." 
"But  I  did;  and,  Olaf,  I  shall  not  forget  it." 
After  one  more  longing,  lingering  look  seawards,  they 
retraced  their  steps,  and  went  slowly  southwards. 

In  a  few  weeks'  time,  for  the  snow  was  now  soft,  and 
formed  but  a  poor  surface  for  skUobning  over,  they  found 
themselves  back  once  again  at  the  little  glen  where  the 
kindly  old  naturalist  dwelt. 

"And  now,"  he  said,  after  he  had  given  them  a  kindly 
welcome,  "having  once  more  possessed  myself  of  you,  I  mean 
to  keep  you  till  spring  comes.  Your  time  is  your  own1?" 

"True,"  said  Colin;  "in  a  great  measure  it  is,  because  we 
are  abroad  on  a  holiday,  and  no  one  at  home  will  expect  us 
until  they  see  us  again;  but  we  should  be  trespassing  on 
your  kindness." 

"  On  the  contrary,  young  friends,  the  kindness  will  all  be 
on  your  side.  By  staying,  you  will  be  doing  an  old  man  a 
real  favour." 

Argument  like  this  was  unassailable. 

" O,"  continued  the  aged  hunter,  "you  will  not  have  a 
great  while  to  wait  for  summer  even.  In  this  far  north  land 
our  spring  is  little  more  than  a  name;  summer  quickly  dis- 
places it,  as  it  comes  in  with  one  glad  bound,  driving  the 
snows  from  off  the  plains,  and  causing  them  to  seek  shelter 
on  the  summits  and  hollows  of  the  highest  hills,  clothing 
all  our  lowlands  with  flowers  and  verdure,  draping  our  trees, 
ay,  and  the  very  rocks,  with  beauty.  Yes,  I  know  I  am 
an  enthusiast;  but  so  is  every  true  mountaineer,  be  he 
Scotch,  or  Norse,  or  Swiss." 

So  our  heroes  stayed  on  here  until  the  spring  and  early 
summer  arrived. 

But  skUobning  was  now  over  for  the  season,  for  soon  the 
little  snow  that  was  left  in  the  glens  melted  and  helped  to 
swell  the  river  that,  aided  in  its  course  by  many  a  linn  or 
waterfall,  went  roaring  to  the  lake.  This  lake  was  a  fresh- 
water one,  although  it  was  not  a  great  way  from  a  fjord, 
and  it  teemed  with  fish. 


118         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

The  weather  now  became  remarkably  mild  and  balmy, 
and  even  Kristiansen  himself  thought  it  no  hardship,  but  a 
pleasure,  to  accompany  the  boys  to  the  lake  on  their  fishing 
expeditions.  Only  on  dry  days,  however,  did  he  come ;  and 
it  must  be  confessed  that  there  were  many  wet  ones,  days 
when  the  rain  fell  straight  down  from  the  skies  in  corded 
sheets,  till  one  could  not  help  wondering  where  all  the 
water  came  from.  But  our  heroes  were  well  provided  with 
waterproof  outer  garments,  and  rain  seemed  only  to  make 
the  fish  more  hungry. 

The  lake  was  a  large  one,  and  much  longer  than  wide. 
Moreover,  it  went  winding  in  and  out  among  the  woodlands 
and  hills,  now  turning  golden  and  verdant,  until  it  appeared 
quite  to  lose  itself  in  a  pale  haze. 

Olaf  and  Colin  used  to  take  luncheon  with  them  some- 
times, that  is,  when  they  intended  to  stay  long  away,  and 
here  in  the  lake  was  many  a  little  wooded  isle  where  they 
could  land,  and,  after  dining,  enjoy  to  the  full  the  mid-day 
siesta. 

The  longer  they  lived  in  the  valley  the  more  charming 
did  it  appear  to  become.  Summer  was  indeed  with  them 
now,  and  all  the  land  rejoiced.  The  woods  were  filled  with 
bird-music,  and  there  were  flowers  everywhere. 

Both  Colin  and  his  friend  were  fond  of  wild  flowers — 
what  brave  heart  is  not? — but  Colin  was  no  botanist,  while 
Olaf  was.  They  took  together  many  excursions  far  away, 
and  then  Olaf  could  study  the  Alpine  flora  to  his  heart's 
content. 

But  if  he  could  not  name  and  classify  the  wild  flowers, 
Colin  could  assist  in  collecting  them;  and  he  was  delighted 
also  to  find  in  these  higher  regions  not  only  plants  and 
shrubs,  such  as  the  juniper,  the  wild  myrtle,  and  many 
others,  but  birds  also  that  reminded  him  of  his  native  land. 
For  here  were  the  red  grouse  and  the  cunning  but  beautiful 
lapwing,  the  black  cock  and  the  plover,  the  coot  and  wild 
duck,  and  the  ptarmigan. 

When,  however,  as  they  were  returning  from  the  hills 
one  evening  —  but  the  day  was  really  so  long  now  that 
evening  is  almost  a  misnomer, — they  heard  the  sweet  song 


THE   COMING  OF  SUMMER.  119 

of  the  northern  nightingale  in  a  spruce  thicket,  they  knew 
that  it  must  be  far  on  in  May,  and  that  it  was  time  they 
were  returning  to  their  more  southern  home  by  the  fjord. 

How  sweet  that  bird  sang!  Life  and  love  and  energy 
seemed  all  thrown  into  that  entrancing  lilt,  and  still  in 
some  measure  it  was  not  unlike  that  of  our  own  English 
nightingale.  Here  is  this  song  of  the  northern  bird.  If  the 
reader  is  clever  enough  he  can  set  it  to  music — the  music  of 
Philomel : — 

"  Tyun,  tyun,  tyun,  tyun 

Spi  tui  zqua, 
Tyo,1  tyo,  tyo,  tyo,  tyo,  typ,  tyo,  tix; 

Qutio,  qutio,  qutio,  quitio, 
Zquo,  zquo,  zquo,  zquo 
Tzy,  tzy,  tzy,  tzy,  tzy,  tzy,  tzy,  tzy,  tzy,  tzy, 
Quorrox  tui  zqua  pipiquisi." 

The  longest  time  has  an  end,  be  it  pleasant  or  sad,  and 
the  end  of  June  saw  our  heroes  once  more  on  board  the 
saucy  little  Viking,  and  bearing  up  for  bonnie  Scotland. 

"  But  as  long  as  I  live,"  said  Colin  to  Olaf,  "  I  shall  never 
forget  my  visit  to  your  wild  and  beautiful  country,  nor  the 
many  delightful  and  kind  people  we  have  met/' 

"And  you  are  envious?" 

"Of  some  things,  certainly.  I  envy  you  the  possession 
of  so  many  waterfalls,  and  game  birds,  and  the  fish  that 
teem  in  your  rivers  and  lakes.  I  am  not  sure  but  that  I 
envy  you  also  those  gloomy,  savage  fjords  of  yours.  We 
have  nothing  in  Scotland  that  comes  quite  up  to  these. 

"And,"  he  continued,  "I  should  like  to  import  a  few 
hundreds  of  your  nightingales  and  set  them  free  in  our 
woods. 

'  Tyo,  tyo,  tyo,  tyo. ' 

These  mournful  notes  are  ringing  in  my  ears  still,  and  will, 
dear  Olaf,  lad,  for  many  and  many  a  day." 

i  The  "  tyo  "  is  a  long-drawn  and  plaintive  note. 
END   OF  FIRST  BOOK. 


BOOK   II. 

ON    GKEENLAND'S    ICY   MOUNTAINS. 


CHAPTER   I. 
NORTH  AND  AWAY  TO  THE   SEA  OF  ICE. 

HAT  I  want,"  said  Captain  Reynolds,  bringing 
his  little  red  fist  down  on  the  saloon  table  with 
a  bang,  but  a  very  good-natured  bang — "what 
I  want,  boys,  is  a  bumper  ship.  I  want  to 
come  into  Fraserburgh  here  again  with  a  voyage1  that  will 
open  my  owners'  eyes." 

He  knocked  the  table  again  and  looked  defiantly  across 
at  Rudland  Sj^me,  who  was  laughing  quietly  to  himself. 

"You  never  saw  a  bumper  ship,  doctor,"  he  added.  "Last 
time  you  sailed  with  me  was  an  unfortunate  year." 

"0  no,  Captain  Reynolds,  it  was  most  fortunate,  I  think. 
Don't  you  remember  that  we  had  some  beautiful  cases  of 
pleurisy,  lots  of  frost-bite,  three  accidents,  and  an  amputa- 
tion] How  can  you  talk  so1?" 

Reynolds  turned  round  to  our  old  friend,  Uncle  Tom, 
who  was  near  him  on  the  locker,  and  addressed  him. 

"A  bumper  ship,  Captain  Jones.  I  want  this  dear  old 
Bladder-nose  to  be  full  up  to  the  tanks,  full  to  the  hatches 
with  skins,  and  a  bing  on  the  deck  'twixt  main  and  fore, 
half  as  high  as  the  main-mast!" 

1  A  "voyage"  in  this  sense  means  a  heavy  cargo,  and  when  Reynolds  talks  of 
"my"  owners  he  means  the  owners  of  the  ship.  Greenland-going  sailors  have 
many  expressions  that  are  peculiarly  their  own.— G.  S. 


NORTH  AND  AWAY  TO  THE  SEA  OF  ICE.      121 

"Bravo,  Captain  Reynolds!"  put  in  Rudland  Syme. 

"  Yes,  and  I  mean  to  try  to  work  it  too,"  continued  the 
skipper,  simply  waving  his  hand  towards  Syme  as  if  to  tell 
him  to  keep  quiet.  ''And  I  won't  merely  try;  I'll  do  it. 
The  Bladder-nose  and  I  have  been  a  bumper  ship  before  now, 
and  we  shall  again,  with  the  blessing  of  Providence." 

"  Well,"  said  Uncle  Tom  right  pleasantly,  "  I  really  hope 
you  will  have  the  luck  I  feel  sure  you  deserve." 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,  Captain  Jones.  Now,  you  see, 
my  plan  is  this.  We  shall  slip  away  easily  a  whole  week 
at  least  before  the  other  ships  get  their  beef  hung  in  the 
tops.  'What's  old  Reynolds  up  to  this  year1?'  some  of  them 
will  say.  But  I'll  only  laugh  in  my  sleeve.  'You  leave  old 
Reynolds  alone,'  I'll  say  to  myself;  'he  knows  his  way 
about.'  Well,  sir,  I'll  slip  away  up  north  to  Lerwick.  There 
won't  be  a  Greenlander  anywhere  in  sight  when  I  drop  my 
anchor  in  Bressa  Sound.  Then  I'll  go  on  shore  and  simply 
take  my  pick  of  the  Lerwick  men — engage  all  the  best. 
Do  you  follow  me,  sir?" 

"  I  do.    You  talk  like  a  book." 

"Yes,  sir,  and  before  the  other  ships  come  in  I'll  be  off. 
'Have  you  seen  anything  of  old  Reynolds?'  the  skippers 
will  ask  the  innkeeper.  'Och,'  the  innkeeper  will  say,  'he 
is  half- ways  to  the  country1  by  now!'  '0,'  the  steam-boat 
skippers  will  reply,  '  we'll  soon  catch  him  up,  though  we 
should  be  here  a  fortnight.  Nothing  like  steam.' 

"But,  Captain  Jones,  you  should  just  see  my  dear  old 
Bladder-nose  on  a  wind.  O,  can't  she  rip  through  it  just, 
and  can't  my  mate  carry  on  too !  No,  sir,  not  the  slightest 
danger  of  carrying  anything  away.  Masts  were  never  made 
before  of  such  timber  as  ours  are,  sticks  were  never  better 
stepped.  You  haven't  been  round  her  yet,  sir.  Well,  it  is 
too  dark  to-night,  but  to-morrow  you  shall  see  our  bowsprit 
and  jibboom. 

"  But,  as  I  was  saying,  sir,  we'll  slip  away  to  'the  country' 
and  steer  north  and  east,  keeping  fairly  well  off  the  pack-ice 
for  fear  of  getting  nipped.  North  and  east,  north  and  east, 
just  the  way  the  ice  trends,  you  know,  till  one  fine  day  my 

1  By  "  the  country  "  is  meant  the  sea  of  ice. 


122         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

mate  will  pop  his  nose  over  the  nest  and  shout  down,  *  Seals 
ahead,  sir,  coming  this  way  in  thousands,  sir;  sea  is  black 
with  them.'  And,  sir,  that  will  be  fortune  coming  for  me 
and  my  owners.  All  we'll  have  to  do  will  be  to  'bout 
ship  and  follow  the  seals  till  they  take  the  low  ice  farther 
down  south.  Then  we'll  do  nothing  but  dodge  and  wait  till 
the  puppies  are  born  and  grow  big  enough  to  make  a  voyage. 
See  it  all,  don't  you,  sir?" 

"  Yes,  and  I  hope  it  will  all  turn  out  just  as  you  describe 
it.  Ah!  Mr.  Eeynolds,  I  only  wish  I  was  two  hundred 
years  younger,  I'd  go  with  you  myself.  But  sunnier  seas 
suit  my  limbs  best  now." 

"  Well,  that  just  reminds  me  of  what  I  was  going  to  say 
when  I  began,  sir.  I  don't  mind  whom  I  take  with  me,  so 
long  as  they  can  jump  and  shoot." 

Uncle  Tom  laughed  a  happy,  contented  kind  of  laugh,  as 
he  pointed  to  our  heroes,  Colin  and  Olaf,  who  were  sip- 
ping their  coffee  beside  the  doctor  at  the  other  side  of  the 
table. 

"  There,"  he  said,  "you've  got  the  right  stuff.  Olaf  yonder, 
and  Colin,  too,  are  crack  shots,  and  first-rate  she — she — what 
do  you  call  it,  boys?" 

"  Skilobers,"  said  Olaf  smiling. 

"  She-lovers,"  said  Uncle  Tom.  "  Well,  last  winter,  sir, 
with  Sigurd  and  a  Lapp  boy,  they  travelled  all  the  way 
to  Finland  from  Bergen.  Can  you  beat  that?" 

"Boys,  I'll  have  you!  I'll  rate  you  as — let  me  see.  We 
shall  want  a  kind  of  special  rating,  sha'n't  we  ?  Assistant 
harpooners — that  will  do?  Wages — " 

"0,  we  don't  want  wages." 

"Ah!  but  you  must.  We're  not  allowed  to  carry  pas- 
sengers. Wages — two  pounds  ten  a  month  and  all  your 
rations,  with  half  a  crown  for  every  ton  of  oil  and  five  shil- 
lings for  every  hundred  skins.  Now,  how  does  that  strike 
you?" 

Olaf's  eyes  sparkled  with  delight. 

Colin  heaved  a  satisfied  kind  of  sigh  as  he  thanked  Cap- 
tain Reynolds  for  his  kindness. 

"Kindness?"  cried  the  skipper.     "Why,  there  isn't  an 


NORTH  AND  AWAY  TO  THE  SEA  OF  ICE.  123 

ounce  of  kindness  in  it.  I  just  expect  to  get  as  much  as  I 
give,  and  I  feel  sure  you'll  do  all  that  good  shooting  can  do 
to  help  to  make  us  a  bumper  ship." 

"That  will  they,  I  warrant,"  said  Uncle  Tom.  "And 
now,"  he  added,  "let  me  introduce  Olaf  here  a  little  more 
to  you.  How  long,  Captain  Reynolds,  have  you  been  going 
back  and  fore  to  Greenland  seas,  may  I  ask?" 

"Ever  since  I  was  a  boy  that  you  could  have  sewed 
up  in  a  little  saddle-back  seal- skin,  and  now  I'm  six-and- 
twenty." 

"Well,  you  may  have  heard  of  Olaf's  father,  Captain 
Rannaf" 

"Captain  Ranna!  Poor  Captain  Ranna?  Is  this  indeed 
his  son  1  Boy,  I  knew  your  father  well — a  tall,  fine,  gentle- 
manly fellow.  The  Green  Norseman  we  called  him.  Not 
that  he  was  green,  Captain  Jones,  but  his  ship.  I  was  in 
the  same  pack  when  he  was  killed  by  a  bear." 

There  were  tears  in  Olaf's  eyes.  He  was  but  a  boy,  yet 
even  a  man  need  not  be  ashamed  if  the  memory  of  a  dead 
father  brings  moisture  to  his  eyes. 

"  And,  let  me  think,  though  I  was  but  young  at  the  time. 
It  was  his  spectioneer,  I  believe,  who  was  with  him  at  the 
time  he  was  killed.  Seabird  was  his  name,  and  he  boldly 
fought  the  murdering  bear,  and  drove  him  off." 

"  Was  it  not  Sigurd?"  said  Olaf. 

"Ah,  yes,  that  was  it — Seagirt;  but  it's  all  the  same. 
Then  shake  hands,  boy.  You're  doubly  welcome  to  my  ship 
for  your  father's  sake. 

"  Your  father,"  he  added,  "  was  a  clever  man.  His  was 
called  the  'lucky  ship',  and  whenever  she  hove  in  sight 
Peterhead,  Hull,  and  Fraserburgh  ships  all  bore  up  after 
her  to  share  in  the  seals  she  was  sure  to  find.  I've  seen 
five  or  six  in  her  wake — brigs,  barques,  and  full-rigged  ships. 
But  your  father  used  to  play  them  a  trick  sometimes  and 
shake  them  off.  And  what  has  become  of  Seabird — I  mean 
Seagirt?" 

"He  hasn't  been  back  to  'the  country'  since  father's 
death." 

"And  do  you  think  you  could  find  him?" 


124          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"0,  yes;  he  is  in  Inverness." 

"Would  he  come1?  I'll  make  him  second  mate.  For  I 
haven't  engaged  that  officer  yet." 

"Yes,  sir,  he'll  come;  and  mother  will  be  so  pleased  to 
have  him  near  myself  and  Colin;  for,  you  know,  mother 
persists  in  looking  upon  us  as  boys." 

Reynolds  laughed. 

"I  don't  think,"  he  said,  "that  she  is  very  far  wrong, 
you  know." 

A  right  pleasant  face  and  smile  had  Reynolds,  though, 
when  not  laughing,  there  was  an  air  of  earnestness  in  his 
face  that  sometimes  almost  approached  the  sad.  He  was  a 
young  man,  about  the  medium  height,  with  square  shoulders, 
small  hands  and  feet,  and  firmly  knit  together  all  over.  An 
athlete,  indeed,  in  every  sense  of  the  word,  as  far  as  appear- 
ance went,  and  his  future  deeds,  it  will  be  seen,  did  not 
belie  his  looks. 

His  eyes  were  keen  and  searching.  He  seemed  to  look 
one  through  and  through  from  underneath  his  somewhat 
lowered  brows,  but  in  by  no  means  an  unpleasant  way; 
indeed,  he  appeared  to  be  always  trying  to  get  the  best  side 
of  a  man's  character  uppermost,  and  would  not  have  been 
happy  had  he  not  found  something  good  in  everybody. 
His  face  was  more  elongated  than  round,  and  as  he  wore 
only  a  slight  moustache  this  elongation  was  all  the  more 
pronounced. 

Now  this  visit  to  Fraserburgh  and  the  Bladder-nose  sealing 
ship  had  all  been  arranged  by  Rudland  Syme.  For  as  soon 
as  the  Viking  had  arrived  in  Inverness,  and  our  heroes  had 
spent  a  few  weeks  with  Olaf  s  mother,  the  little  yacht  sailed 
again  for  Aberdeen. 

Colin's  first  visit  had  been,  of  course,  to  the  house  of  Miss 
Dewar,  his  aunt.  He  never  announced  his  arrival  until  he 
ran  up  the  granite  steps  and  knocked.  The  smiling  little 
servant  declared  herself  delighted  to  see  him.  "0,  the 
mistress  will  be  pleased!"  she  cried. 

Everything  in  the  house  and  about  it  was  just  as  he  had 
left  it,  and  when  he  popped  into  the  drawing-room,  there 
was  Miss  Dewar  filling  out  the  tea  as  she  used  to  do.  And 


NORTH  AND  AWAY  TO  THE  SEA  OF  ICE.      125 

her  guests  were  two  ladies  and  honest  Uncle  Tom,  or  Captain 
Junk.  Him  Colin  had  not  expected  to  meet. 

I  need  not  tell  you  how  heartily  welcome  Colin  had  been 
made,  or  how  the  great  Newfoundland  dog  found  it  absolutely 
necessary  to  engage  in  his  old  wild  race  upstairs  and  down, 
from  basement  to  attic  and  back  again. 

One  of  Miss  Dewar's  very  first  inquiries  had  been  for 
Olaf. 

"  Well  and  happy,"  said  Colin,  "  and  will  be  here  soon." 

The  Norse  lad  thought  it  was  his  duty  to  visit  Widow 
Jackson's  house  first.  He  had  found  the  little  lady  well,  he 
had  found  "  my  son  John  "  at  home  also,  and  last,  but  not 
least,  little  Katie.  All  were  so  happy  that  they  did  not 
know  how  much  to  make  of  Olaf.  Katie  was  a  very  pretty 
and  engaging  child,  and  she  did  not  hesitate  to  sit  on  Olaf's 
knee  and  tell  him  candidly  that  she  loved  him  very  much, 
and  that  she  and  mammy  had  prayed  for  him  every  night. 

Then  there  had  come  a  knock  at  the  widow's  door. 

"  It  is  Sigurd,"  said  Olaf. 

He  was  duly  admitted,  and  John  gave  him  a  chair. 

Then  Olaf  took  the  carpet-bag  he  had  brought,  and  opened 
it  on  the  spot. 

"Presents!"  cried  Katie.  "03  ye're  awfu'  kind  and 
bonnie!" 

Yes,  they  were  presents.  There  was  a  Shetland  shawl 
and  mits  for  Mrs.  Jackson,  a  big  pipe  and  lots  of  tobacco 
for  John,  and — well,  all  the  other  things  were  for  Olaf's 
little  sweetheart,  as  he  called  Katie,  boxes  of  paints,  picture- 
books,  and  toys  of  a  dozen  different  descriptions,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  drollest-looking  dolls  ever  the  girl  had 
seen. 

She  clapped  her  hands  for  joy,  she  gave  him  a  kiss,  and 
she  declared  that  she  loved  him  more  and  more,  and  that 
he  was  bonnier  than  any  boy  she  had  ever  seen  at  the  kirk. 
What  more  could  anyone  wish  a  sweetheart  to  say  than  all 
that] 

A  right  pleasant  and  even  happy  time  of  it  had  our  young 
heroes  spent  in  the  Granite  City;  but  then,  you  know,  youth 
is  the  season  made  for  joy,  and  so  long  as  a  boy  does  what- 


126         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

ever  duties  fall  to  his  lot,  I  do  not  see  any  reason  why  he 
should  not  be  as  happy  as  possible  in  a  sinless  way. 

Miss  Dewar  had  insisted  on  Olaf's  being  her  guest  as 
well  as  Colin,  although  he  paid  almost  daily  visits  to  the 
widow's. 

When  Olaf  left  Aberdeen  at  last  to  go  to  the  Highlands 
with  his  friend,  where  they  were  to  spend  the  autumn, 
Rudland  Syme  accompanied  them. 

The  parting  betwixt  the  Norse  boy  and  little  Katie  was 
of  so  tearful — on  her  part — and  heartrending  a  kind,  that  I 
forbear  to  sadden  my  pages  by  describing  it. 

Captain  Reynolds  was  as  good  as  his  word.  He  was 
ready  before  any  other  ship  belonging  to  the  Greenland 
fleet  had  dreamt  of  leaving  either  Peterhead  or  Fraserburgh, 
and  although  it  blew  about  half  a  gale  of  wind  on  the  day 
he  had  arranged  to  sail,  and  although  all  the  hills  were 
white  with  snow,  and  snowy  clouds  were  banked  up  to  wind- 
ward or  drifting  rapidly  across  the  sky,  although,  too,  the 
sea  was  sheeted  in  foam,  the  Bladder-nose  was  clear  of  the 
harbour  before  the  end  of  the  forenoon  watch,  and  well  out 
to  sea. 

The  crowd  on  the  pier  cheered  themselves  almost  hoarse, 
the  men  waving  their  caps  aloft,  the  women — mothers, 
wives,  and  sweethearts — their  handkerchiefs,  and  nearly  all 
these  were  wet  with  tears. 

When  it  was  seen  that  the  Bladder-nose  had  missed  stays 
in  tacking,  and  was  being  whirled  on  to  a  lee  shore,  the 
excitement  was  for  a  time  intense.  However,  all  was  soon 
right  again  on  board  the  bold  and  sturdy  ship. 

"  That  is  an  unlucky  sign,"  said  an  old  man. 

But  the  women  folks  turned  upon  him,  and  there  ensued 
a  logomachy  that  ended  in  the  old  man  having  to  seek  re- 
fuge in  flight. 

A  rough  sea  all  the  way  to  Lerwick.  Not  a  ship  lay  in 
Bressa  Sound,  and,  just  as  he  had  arranged  it,  Reynolds 
managed  to  secure  the  very  pick  of  the  Shetland  Greenland- 
going  seamen  and  towmen. 

Reynolds  was  happy.     So,  as  far  as  that  goes,  was  every- 


NORTH  AND  AWAY  TO  THE  SEA  OF  ICE.  127 

one  on  board  the  ship,  for  all  looked  forward  to  having  a 
good  voyage. 

At  Lerwick  the  men  completed  the  purchase  of  their 
comforts  in  the  shape  of  warmer  underclothing,  mits,  and 
gloves. 

Then  all  was  completed,  and  the  new  men  taken  on  board 
with  their  little  boxes  and  their  bags,  for  your  hardy  Shet- 
landers  are  like  the  Norsemen,  and  trouble  themselves  very 
little  about  luxuries.  Indeed,  they  do  not  indulge  in  any 
very  great  superfluity  of  clothing — just  enough  to  get  along 
with. 

The  anchor  was  weighed,  and  the  Bladder-nose,  with  all 
sail  set,  for  a  gentle  breeze  was  blowing  from  the  south- 
ward and  east,  wormed  her  way  through  between  the  islands, 
and  was  soon  out  and  away  on  the  dark  heaving  bosom  of 
the  North  Sea.  Before  the  short  day  ended  and  the  sun 
began  to  descend  towards  the  western  waves,  the  land  was 
visible  only  as  a  dark  uncertain  cloud-like  line,  far  away  on 
the  south-eastern  horizon. 

Then  night  fell.  Night  fell  dark  and  drear  although  it 
was  barely  four  o'clock  yet;  but  it  must  be  remembered  that 
the  ship  was  pretty  far  to  the  nor'ard,  and  that  it  was  early 
in  the  year,  for  Valentine's-day  had  only  just  passed  when 
the  good  ship  left  the  rock-bound  shores  of  Scotland. 

"Early  dark,  lads?"  said  Eeynolds,  when  the  boys  came 
below  to  the  cabin  or  saloon.  "Yes,  that  is  the  worst  of  it, 
and  for  some  time  to  come  the  days  will  get  shorter  and 
shorter,  for  we  really  are  sailing  into  the  regions  of 
night." 

"How  interesting!"  said  Colin. 

"  Well,  it  may  be  interesting,  but  it  is  somewhat  awkward. 
Just  at  present  there  doesn't  happen  to  be  a  moon,  you 
know,  at  least  not  one  worth  speaking  about,  and  so  we  shall 
have  to  grope  our  way  over  the  sea." 

"A  rid  sea?" 

"Yes,  good  luck  to  us;  we've  started  well — a  fair  wind 
and  a  rid  sea.  All  the  other  ships  are  a  week  behind  us 
anyhow." 

And  Eeynolds  laughed  right  pleasantly. 


128  TO   GREENLAND  AND   THE   POLE. 

When  the  steward  lit  the  great  swing-lamp,  and  placed 
the  fiddles ]  on  the  table,  and  the  cups  and  saucers,  and 
bread-and-butter  for  tea,  things  down  below  began  to  assume 
a  very  cheerful  aspect  indeed. 

There  was  a  very  large  stove  in  the  saloon,  and  the  captain 
now  heaped  on  more  coals,  till  the  brightness  of  the  glow 
sent  forth  rivalled,  and  even  tried  to  dim  the  light  from  the 
lamp  itself. 

"Tea  and  coffee  are  the  drinks  for  the  Arctic  regions," 
said  Reynolds,  as  he  filled  out  Colin's  fourth  cup.  "  They 
are  indeed  the  cups  that  cheer,  but  inebriate  not." 

By  and  by  the  mate  came  below,  and  the  steward  brought 
in  another  tea-pot.  He,  too,  was  cheerful  and  happy.  The 
captain  and  his  mate,  a  pleasant,  fair-haired,  merry  English- 
man, as  red-faced  and  hardy  as  any  son  of  a  gun  who  ever 
sailed  the  seas,  seemed  to  be  on  very  friendly  terms. 

"Joseph  Barry,"  he  told  the  boys  to-night,  has  sailed  with 
me  in  the  old  Bladder-nose  ever  since  I  took  command  of 
her  six  years  ago,  and  we  are  just  like  brothers — aren't  we, 
Joe?" 

"Yes,"  said  Joe,  stirring  his  tea  with  a  horn-spoon,  "just 
like  brothers,  only  more  so.  I  remember  right  well,  sir,  when 
you  took  charge  first,  you  were  the  youngest  skipper  in  the 
fleet,  only  a  boy  like.  And  I  mind  well,  too,  that  lots  of 
your  friends  in  Fraserburgh  didn't  like  your  engaging  an 
Englishman  as  a  mate  and  not  a  Scotsman." 

"Ah,  Joe,  I  knew  your  sterling  merit." 

"What,  ho!"  The  exclamation  came  from  Joseph,  for  at 
that  moment  the  Bladder-nose  gave  a  lurch  to  leeward,  and 
his  cup  of  tea  landed  in  his  lap. 

Everybody  laughed.  That  is  the  best  way  to  meet  little 
mishaps  like  this,  whether  on  sea  or  land. 

"Steward!"  cried  the  skipper;  "now  that  we  are  fairly 
at  sea;  we'll  dispense  with  cups  and  saucers,  and  have  good, 
honest  mugs." 

The  mate  smoked  a  meerschaum;  the  captain,  for  com- 
pany's sake,  a  mild  cigar.  But  he  was  not  really  a  smoker. 

i  Pieces  of  wood  attached  by  strings  that  are  shipped  across  the  table  under 
the  cloth  to  prevent  things  from  rolling  off. 


NORTH  AND  AWAY  TO  THE  SEA  OF  ICE.     129 

Having  finished  tea,  he  threw  a  bearskin  down  in  front 
of  the  stove  and  two  books. 

"Squat  there,  boys,"  he  said;  "and  if  you  don't  want  to 
talk,  why,  you  can  read." 

Then,  while  the  mate  pulled  his  camp-stool  near  to  the 
fire,  Captain  Eeynolds  took  the  ship's  cat  on  his  knee,  as  he 
threw  himself  into  his  big  arm-chair. 

"I  hope,"  said  Joe;  "you  younkers  won't  find  the  voyage 
out  a  very  long  or  weary  one." 

"  When  we  do  get  out,"  laughed  the  skipper,  "  I'll  see 
to  it  they  don't  have  much  time  to  grow  weary  unless  it 
be  with  hard  work." 

"  But,"  said  Olaf,  "  I  would  like,  and  I'm  sure  that  Colin 
here  would  like  too,  to  join  a  watch." 

"Bravo!"  cried  Joe. 

"Bravo!"  said  the  skipper. 

"Well,"  Joe  said.  "I  propose  that  you,  Olaf,  join  Sea- 
bird's  watch— 

"Sigurd,  please,  mate." 

"  Then  the  mate  won't  please.  I  allow  that  Seagirt  is  a 
good  name  for  a  sailor;  but  we've  begun  to  call  him  Seabird, 
and  Seabird  he'll  have  to  remain  unless  you  think  Seagull 
would  be  an  improvement.  So  you  go  with  Seabird,  and 
I'll  have  Colin." 

It  was  thus  arranged  then.  And  now  our  heroes  began 
to  understand  what  roughing  it  in  the  wild  North  Sea,  in 
winter,  really  means. 

It  is  just  possible  that  some  of  my  readers  who  are  bent 
on  going  to  sea  may  think  they  would  like  to  sail  Green- 
land way.  So  I  shall  tell  them  the  truth  about  it. 

First  and  foremost  then,  when  you  do  reach  the  ice  and 
all  your  strange  and  exciting  adventures  among  it  and  on 
it  begin  in  earnest,  I  must  admit  it  is  exceedingly  pleasant. 
There  really  is  a  kind  of  glamour  or  spell  thrown  over  one 
up  in  these  regions,  which  nobody  can  quite  describe  or 
understand. 

I  am  not  bound  in  these  pages  to  attempt  to  lay  down 
any  theory  of  explanation,  else  I  should  say  that  this  glamour 
is  born  first  of  the  complete  change  such  a  visit  has  brought 

(988)  I 


130         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

about.  Everything,  I  mean  to  say,  is  as  new  and  strange  as 
if  you  had  been  transported  into  another  planet.  Then, 
again,  the  air  you  breathe  is  so  pure  and  bracing,  that 
you  become  healthful  in  the  very  highest  sense  of  the  word. 
Why,  you  are  breathing  almost  pure  oxygen,  and  this  it  is, 
I  believe,  that  to  a  great  extent  accounts  for  the  feeling  of 
perfect  content  and  happiness  one  often  feels,  even  when 
lying  on  the  snow-clad  ice,  at  the  sunny  side  of  a  hummock. 
But— ah!  there  is  always  a  "but"  to  block  one's  joy  in 
this  world,  and  always  an  "if"  to  stand  between  us  and 
true  happiness — we  have  to  cross  the  stormy  North  Sea  to 
get  there.  That  is,  your  real  Greenland  sealer  with  real 
Greenland  sailors  on  board  of  her  has  to.  A  fig  for  your 
men  in  dandy  jackets  that  run  out  Iceland  way  in  fine 
summer  weather,  in  beautiful  steam-yachts,  fitted  up  with 
every  convenience  and  every  luxury.  They  are  no  more 
sailors  than  are  those  "yachtsmen",  whose  only  experience 
is  sailing  on  a  Norfolk  broad. 

On  board  the  Bladder-nose  there  were  three  watches — first 
mate's,  second  mate's,  and  spectioneer's  or  third  mate's.  Now, 
in  order  to  divide  these  watches  at  sea,  so  that  they  shall 
not  be  coming  on  at  the  same  hours  each  day,  the  following 
plan  is  adopted,  and  this  is  the  case  in  all  good  ships.  The 
division  is  effected  by  means  of  what  are  called  dog-watches. 
Let  A  =  1st  mate,  B  =  2d,  and  C  =  3d.  Now  A  comes 
on  in  the  first  watch,  from  eight  to  twelve  at  night.  The 
watches  would  then  run  as  follows : — 

A  keeps  1st  watch  from  8-12  p.m. 

B      „      middle        „     12-4  a.m. 

C      „     morning      „       4-8  a.m. 

A     „      forenoon     „       8-12  noon. 

B     „      afternoon    „     12-4  p.m. 

Now,  if  C  had  his  watch  from  4-8,  it  is  evident  that  A 
would  have  to  come  on  again  from  8-1 2,  poor  B  would  have 
to  turn  out  at  midnight  as  he  did  on  the  previous  night,  and 
poor  0  at  4  in  the  morning  as  before. 
It  is  ordered  otherwise  for : — 

C  keeps  1st  dog-watch  from  4-6  p.m. 
A    „      2d     „        „        „     6-8  p.m. 


NORTH  AND  AWAY  TO  THE  SEA  OF  ICE.      131 

Then  you  see  B  gets  the  first  watch  8-12,  and  C  the  middle 
12-4,  so  that  A  to-night  has  a  whole  night  in,  as  it  is  called; 
that  is,  he  can  go  to  his  bunk  at  8  or  9  and  sleep  as  soundly 
as  he  likes,  till  roused  at  4  a.m.  to  keep  the  morning  watch. 

But  keeping  either  the  midnight  or  morning  watch  in  an 
outward-bound  Greenland  ship,  is  no  joke,  I  can  assure  you, 
and  while  walking  about  the  dark  cold  deck,  with  the  wind 
making  daring  attempts  to  freeze  your  very  eyelids  off,  you 
do  look  forward  longingly  to  your  all  night  in.  It  was  this 
turning  out  at  night  that  our  heroes  found  the  hardest  trial 
of  all. 

The  watches  were  called  in  the  good  old  fashion.  There 
was  no  pretty  little  shrill-toned  bo's'n's  pipe.  One  of  the 
hands  simply  went  below,  and  after  knocking  three  times 
on  the  deck  with  his  heavily-booted  foot,  shouted  in  sten- 
torian tones  the  name  of  the  watch  to  be  called,  often  adding 
words  that  were  very  far  indeed  from  consolatory.  For 
example : 

"  Mate's  watch  ahoy — oy — oy !  Turn  out,  my  lads.  Turn 
out.  Oilskins  and  sou'westers.  Half  a  gale  of  wind  and 
a  snowstorm.  Turn  out,  turn  out.  Stand  by  for  your  noses 
when  you  get  on  deck!" 

Colin  or  Olaf,  as  the  case  might  be,  used  to  wriggle  out 
of  his  bunk  at  once,  and  dress  to  face  the  awful  ordeal. 
Had  he  thought  twice  about  it,  had  he  indulged  himself 
in  two  extra  seconds,  he  would  have  sunk  once  more  into 
the  blissful  land  of  dreams,  and  this  would  have  meant  dis- 
grace. 

What  Captain  Reynolds  had  told  them  was  true  enough, 
and  the  farther  north  they  got  the  shorter  grew  the  days. 
Shorter  and  colder  as  well.  The  fair  wind  they  had  taken 
with  them  from  the  Shetland  Isles  lasted  for  nearly  a  week, 
then  a  spell  of  weather  so  wild  commenced,  that,  sturdy  and 
strong  though  the  Bladder-nose  was,  the  captain  and  mate 
often  feared  for  her  safety. 

To  make  matters  worse  the  wind  had  veered  round  to  the 
north-north-east,  and  was  thus  almost  dead  ahead  of  them, 
and  fatal  to  all  progress.  It  did  not  blow  a  gale,  but 
sufficiently  near  it  to  induce  Reynolds  to  lie  to. 


132          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

Thus  day  after  day  went  by,  and  it  seemed  indeed  that 
the  fierce  wind  would  never  come  round  to  the  proper 
quarter.  The  skipper  and  mate  spent  a  considerable  time 
each  day  studying  the  glass,  that  is,  if  all  the  times  they 
looked  at  it  could  have  been  put  together. 

The  bows  and  forecastle  were  now  massed  with  ice,  and 
probably  the  hardest  work  that  the  crew  had  to  perform 
was  striking  the  ice  off  with  crowbars  and  other  tools. 

Then  the  spray  that  came  whirling  and  singing  on  board 
from  the  tops  of  the  foam-crested  waves  got  almost  instantly 
frozen  on  ropes  and  rigging  and  stays.  So  hard  indeed  did 
the  ropes  become,  that  it  was  found  almost  impossible  at 
times  to  get  them  to  run  through  the  blocks. 

But,  independent  of  the  frozen  spray,  snow  fell  heavily,  so 
that  the  slippery  decks  were  filled  with  it,  or  would  soon 
have  been,  from  bulwark  to  bulwark,  had  it  not  been  con- 
stantly swept  away. 

There  were  several  cases  of  frost-bite.  Rudland  Syme 
called  them  "beautiful  cases",  and  took  notes  of  them  all 
to  work  up  into  an  article  for  the  Lancet  as  soon  as  he  should 
return  to  terra  firma. 

Did  Colin  or  Olaf  repent  having  voluntarily  joined  a 
watch  ?  Neither,  I  am  glad  to  say.  For,  without  doubt,  the 
schooling  that  our  Scottish  hero  had  undergone  during  that 
long  and  dreary  journey  in  the  depth  of  winter  to  Finland 
had  done  him  much  good.  It  had  really  and  truly  hardened 
him  As  for  Olaf,  he  had  not  required  hardening  quite  so 
much.  He  had  been  born  among  the  snow,  so  to  speak, 
and  was  as  hardy  as  Highland  heather. 

The  terrible  weather  experienced  by  our  travellers  was 
bad  enough  to  bear  with  by  day,  but  it  was  ten  times  worse 
at  night. 

I  do  not  remember  how  low  the  spirit  thermometer  sank. 
It  might  have  been  but  to  zero,  or  many  degrees  below  it. 
But  twenty  degrees  below  zero,  with  the  sun  shining  and  no 
wind  blowing  is  paradise  itself  compared  to  zero,  or  a  little 
above  it,  when  a  stiff  nor'-easter  is  howling  across  the  ocean. 

There  was  one  thing  that  every  one  gladly  lent  a  hand 
to  do  down  below  in  the  saloon,  and  that  was  to  feed  the 


NORTH  AND   AWAY  TO   THE   SEA  OF  ICE.  133 

stove.  It  was  the  first  thing  everybody  looked  at  when  he 
entered,  then  he  would  remark,  "  Why,  that  fire  is  very  low," 
and  proceed  at  once  to  put  on  more  coals.  Yet  a  bucket 
of  water  that  stood  close  by  the  great  stove — for  even  in 
Greenland  cold  water  makes  an  excellent  drink — was  con- 
stantly frozen;  bottled  beer  was  frozen  in  the  adjoining 
lockers  too, — not  into  solid  ice,  but  into  small  scales, — and 
if  an  officer  left  his  coffee  standing  on  the  table  for  only 
a  few  minutes  he  had  to  sip  it  from  under  a  thin  cake  of 
ice. 

" Does  one  feel  the  cold  much  in  a  Greenland-going  ship?" 
it  may  be  asked.  The  answer  is :  Not  if  you  keep  moving 
about  on  deck  and  doing  things."  Only  one  must  never  take 
off  one's  mits  and  gloves  in  order  to  handle  ropes  or  metal- 
work,  or  instant  frost-bite  may  be  the  result.  If  you  touch 
a  piece  of  iron-work  with  your  bare  hand  it  feels  as  if  it  were 
red  hot.  It  is  agony  for  the  time  being,  and  your  skin  sticks 
to  it. 

The  men,  of  course,  suffer  far  more  from  the  cold  than 
the  officers,  because  they  are  doing  the  manual  work  of  the 
ship.  I  know  of  no  greater  test  for  a  man's  courage  and  en- 
durance than  to  have  to  hang  up  aloft  for  some  time  across 
a  yard-arm  reefing  a  frozen  topsail.  Hands  are  quickly 
frozen  there,  and  cheeks  and  noses  also.  Moreover,  the 
whole  body  becomes  so  completely  paralysed  and  numbed 
with  the  cold,  that  it  has  often  been  a  wonder  to  me  how 
the  poor  fellows  could  hold  on  at  all.  As  it  is,  every  year 
fatal  accidents  occur,  by  men  being  blown  off  the  yard-arms, 
into  the  dark  and  seething  sea,  or  dropping  off  and  alight- 
ing upon  the  deck. 

The  only  time  of  the  day  our  heroes  felt  really  cold  was 
just  after  turning  in.  They  slept  in  bunks  little  bigger  than 
coffins.  The  openings  into  these  bunks  are  mere  bung-holes 
so  to  speak,  and  there  is  considerable  art  to  be  displayed  in 
wriggling  in  and  wriggling  out  again. 

The  bedclothes  were  sewn  together,  with  sheets  of  brown 
paper  placed  between  for  extra  warmth.  Yet  it  was  always 
half  an  hour  before  they  could  get  to  sleep,  for  the  extreme 
cold.  This  was  the  most  miserable  time  of  the  whole  day. 


134         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

But  gentle  warmth  came  at  last,  and  with  it  sleep.     Dream- 
less sleep,  too,  and  refreshing. 

When  they  awoke,  or  rather  were  rudely  awakened  by 
the  man  calling  the  watch,  they  would  find  the  bunk,  and 
the  coverlet  as  well,  lined  with  half  an  inch  of  pure  white 
snow.  Their  frozen  breath!  There  is  not  the  slightest 
exaggeration  in  what  I  am  now  telling  you.  Were  I  to 
fall  back  upon  my  imagination,  I  could  tell  you  strange 
stories  indeed,  concerning  the  effects  of  the  frost  and  cold. 
But  I  am  writing  a  plain  unvarnished  tale,  and  prefer  to 
shoot  under,  rather  than  over  the  mark. 


CHAPTER   II. 

OLAF'S  FIRST  BEAR — AN  INK -BLACK  OCEAN — SEALS  IN 
THEIR  MILLIONS. 

CAPTAIN  REYNOLDS  was  one  of  the  most  hopeful  of 
men.  Joseph,  his  mate,  was  another,  and  whenever 
they  met  together,  whether  it  was  during  duty  on  deck  or 
at  their  meals,  they  seemed  to  buoy  each  other  up. 

"  This  weather  can't  last  much  longer  now,  sir,"  Joseph 
would  say. 

"No,  indeed,  it  is  impossible." 

"  Let  me  see,  sir.  Why,  we've  been  in  this  blow  for  nine 
days." 

"  Well,  in  twelve  hours  there'll  be  a  change.     You'll  see." 

"  I  do  believe  it  is  clearing  a  little  to  windward  now,  sir." 

And  so  on  and  so  forth.  Then  both  would  laugh,  and 
look  as  pleased  as  if  they'd  had  a  fortune  left  them. 

One  morning,  just  after  eight  o'clock,  Joseph  came  into  the 
saloon  beating  his  gloved  hands  and  smiling  all  over,  as  one 
might  say. 

"What  cheer,  my' friend1?"  said  Reynolds,  who  had  just 
sat  down  to  breakfast. 


OLAF'S  FIRST  BEAR.  135 

" Cheer?  Why,  sir,  the  glass  is  going  up,  the  wind  is 
falling.  We'll  have  a  blow  from  the  sou'-west  before  many 
hours,  and  won't  we  rip  along  then,  sir." 

"Sit  down,  Joe,  sit  down.  That  is  glorious  news !  Why, 
we'll  be  first  in  the  'country'  after  all.  Ham  and  eggs,  Joe, 
ham  and  eggs;  I  always  think  there  is  nothing  like  three 
fried  eggs  and  half  a  pound  of  ham  to  commence  breakfast 
with.  More  coffee,  steward.  Wind  going  down,  eh?  I 
tell  you  what,  Joe,  the  other  ships  won't  be  in  it  this  season. 
How  are  your  patients,  doctor?" 

"  0  lovely,  sir.  Amputated  a  finger  this  morning.  You 
should  have  seen  that,  Captain  Reynolds,  you  should  have, 
really.  But  I  live  in  hopes  of  having  a  bigger  and  better 
operation  to  show  you  in  a  week  or  two.  Pass  the  beef, 
Joseph." 

It  really  seemed  as  if  fortune  was  going  to  favour  the 
good  ship  Bladder-nose  at  last.  At  all  events  the  sun  did 
shine,  and  the  days  were  already  beginning  to  get  a  little 
longer. 

The  first  question  that  Reynolds  asked  of  his  mate  next 
morning  was : 

"How  is  her  head,  Joseph?" 

"  About  north  and  by  east,  sir." 

"Ah!  then  the  change  has  come,  eh?" 

"  That  it  has,  sir.  The  wind's  fair  at  last,  sir,  and  I've 
shaken  out  every  reef  and  put  her  dead  away  before  it. 
Not  enough  wind;  that's  the  worst  of  it,"  he  added. 
"  It  may  come  on  to  blow  a  bit  more,  or  it  may  fall  dead 
calm." 

"O,  anything  rather  than  a  calm,  Joe." 

But  a  calm  came  nevertheless  before  noon  that  day,  al- 
though such  a  state  of  weather  is  rather  unusual  at  that  time 
of  the  year  in  these  northern  seas. 

With  the  calm  the  temperature  fell  far  lower  than  it  had 
yet  done.  It  was  now  many  degrees  below  zero,  and  a  cold 
mist — in  reality  it  was  steam — rose  up  from  the  surface  of 
the  ocean. 

How  bitterly,  bitterly  cold  that  steam  was,  however.  It 
is  called  the  "  barber "  by  our  Scottish  sailors,  and  during 


136          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

its  prevalence  frost-bite  is  of  almost  hourly  occurrence  on 
board  ships  of  the  Greenland  fleet. 

But  the  men  knew  how  to  guard  against  these  accidents. 
You  see,  reader,  as  long  as  a  man  kept  his  woollen  gloves 
on  and  his  big  mittens — gloves  with  a  thumb  but  no  fingers 
— the  hands  were  safe.  But  John  Frost  is  a  sly  old  rascal; 
he  will  nip  the  nose  or  take  a  bite  at  the  cheek,  and  the 
individual  so  bitten  has  no  knowledge  of  what  has  taken 
place  for  the  time  being,  because  the  spot  is  white  and 
bloodless.  So  the  seamen  watch  each  other's  faces,  and  when 
a  bite  occurs  the  place  is  at  once  rubbed  with  snow  or  ice 
until  the  circulation  is  restored.  If  this  is  not  done  very 
soon  a  huge  blister  is  the  result,  and  the  part  beneath 
becomes  afterwards  badly  ulcerated. 

Captain  Reynolds  took  advantage  of  the  calm  to  hoist  the 
crow's-nest.  This  is  a  very  large  barrel,  which  is  elevated 
to  the  main-truck,  i.e.  right  to  the  top  of  the  main-top- 
gallant mast  itself;  high  above  the  last  ratlins,  so  that  to 
get  into  it  a  Jacob's  ladder  has  to  be  erected.  And  it 
takes  a  good  head  to  climb  up  this,  as  the  steps  are  not  fore 
and  aft  like  those  of  the  rigging,  but  athwart  ships;  you 
have  therefore  to  turn  a  corner.  Well,  old  salts  think 
nothing  of  this,  but  getting  round  corners  at  such  a  giddy 
height,  in  order  to  get  up  into  a  barrel  by  a  hole  through 
the  bottom  thereof,  is  no  fun  for  the  landsman  just  turned 
sailor.  I  speak  feelingly  and  from  experience.  Even  in 
calm  weather  you  must  be  a  kind  of  steeple-jack  to  perform 
the  feat,  but  if  there  is  a  breeze  blowing  and  the  topgallant 
mast  and  the  nest  is  describing  all  kinds  of  circles  and  arcs 
of  circles,  you  do  feel  indeed  that  your  life  is  in  terrible 
jeopardy,  and  only  the  fear  of  being  laughed  at  urges  you  on. 

At  last  you  get  inside  and  stand  up.  Here  you  will  find 
one  large  telescope,  if  not  two,  and  after  a  time  you  get  so 
interested  looking  around  you  that  you  forget  entirely 
where  you  are.  But  owing  to  the  strange  motion  even  the 
best  of  sailors  are  apt  to  get  giddy  and  even  sea-sick,  when 
in  the  nest. 

Olaf  proved  himself  a  perfect  little  sailor  in  the  rigging, 
or  aloft  anywhere,  from  the  very  first,  and  he  spent  a  con- 


OLAF'S  FIRST  BEAR.  137 

siderable  portion  of  his  time  in  the  nest.  (By  the  way,  it 
is  probably  called  a  nest  because  it  is  usually  lined  with 
straw  or  shavings.)  But  Colin  did  not  succeed  in  getting 
into  the  nest  the  first  time  he  tried. 

"Well,"  he  said,  when  Joseph  and  Olaf  rallied  him,  "I'm 
a  big  awkward  chap,  you  know,  and  I'm  more  of  a  goose 
than  a  crow,  and  I  really  don't  want  to  get  my  neck  broken, 
you  must  remember.  But,"  he  added,  "  I'm  going  to  have 
another  try  this  afternoon.  Whatever  a  man  dares  he 
can  do." 

He  did  have  another  try.  There  is  nothing  so  successful 
as  success,  and  when  he  got  inside  at  last  he  felt  constrained 
to  relieve  his  feelings  by  waving  his  cap,  and  by  way  of  en- 
couraging him,  Joseph  and  Olaf  sent  up  a  little  cheer. 

"What  mites  they  appear,"  said  Colin  to  himself;  "no 
bigger  than  flies.  I  won't  look  down  else  I'll  get  giddy. 
Hullo,  here  is  a  telescope ! " 

So  he  began  to  scan  the  horizon.  Some  miles  to  the  north 
he  descried  a  long  white  line,  and  as  the  ship  got  nearer  and 
nearer  he  found  it  was  quite  a  sea  of  small  icebergs. 

Colin  was  glad  to  have  something  to  report,  so  he  shouted 
at  the  top  of  his  voice  : 

"  On  deck,  below  there ! " 

"Ay,  ay!"  cried  Joseph,  looking  up. 

"Ice  dead  ahead  of  us!" 

"Thank  you." 

But  much  to  Colin's  astonishment,  Joseph  took  no  more 
notice.  Our  Scotch  hero  thought  the  mate  would  at  least 
alter  the  helm  so  as  to  clear  the  bergs.  But  he  did  nothing 
of  the  kind,  and  in  half  an  hour  they  were  fast  approaching 
them. 

No  berg  was  bigger  than  a  farmer's  waggon.  They  were 
all  covered  with  snow,  and  of  all  kinds  of  curious  shapes. 
But  such  battering  the  Bladder-nose  did  receive,  to  be  sure ! 
Colin  was  more  than  once  nearly  pitched  right  out  of  the 
crow's-nest.  The  good  ship  was  none  the  worse,  however, 
and  presently  she  was  through  the  ice-stream,  and  right  away 
into  the  open  sea  once  more. 

Now  the  surface  of  the  ocean  began  to  get  rippled,  and 


138         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

soon  a  light  but  steady  breeze  was  blowing.     Colin  grew 
giddy,  and  determined  to  hasten  below  at  once. 

Very  easy  to  resolve,  but  the  execution  was  the  difficulty. 
He  opened  the  little  trap-door  and  permitted  one  of  his 
legs  to  descend  and  feel  around  for  the  Jacob's  ladder. 
His  heart  seemed  to  stand  still  with  fear,  for  that  leg  could 
feel  nothing  under  it. 

It  was  indeed  an  awful  and  a  trying  moment,  and  Colin 
felt  like  giving  himself  up  for  lost.  But  he  must  be  brave. 
He  now  boldly  put  down  the  other  leg,  and  this  time  he  was 
more  successful.  But  all  his  life  he  remember  that  perilous 
descent. 

"  You've  just  come  down  in  time,  youngster,"  said  Joe. 
"  Had  you  stayed  up  there  much  longer  the  nest  would  have 
been  your  bed-room  for  the  night." 

Colin  felt  thankful,  for  now  it  came  on  to  blow  in 
earnest. 

The  breeze  lasted  for  nearly  a  week.  Then  one  morning 
there  was  a  long  whitish  line  seen  lying  just  over  the  horizon 
to  the  nor'ard  and  west.  This  is  called  the  ice-glow  or  ice- 
blink. 

"You  see  that  sky1?"  cried  the  captain,  laughing  and 
rubbing  his  hands  with  glee. 

"Ye — es!"  said  Colin,  wondering  what  there  was  funny 
about  it. 

"  That's  the  ice-glow,  lad.  You'll  soon  see  the  pack 
itself." 

But  the  sun  went  down  that  night,  red-gleaming  over  the 
the  waves,  and  no  ice-pack  hove  in  sight. 

It  happened  to  be  Colin's  all-night  in.  He  came  off  duty 
at  eight  in  the  evening,  and,  after  supper,  went  straight 
away  to  his  bunk.  He  fell  asleep  thinking  about  the 
mysterious  ocean  of  ice,  that  soon  he  hoped  not  only  to  see 
but  to  walk  upon. 

"  From  Greenland's  icy  mountains, 

From  India's  coral  strand ; 
Where  Afric's  sunny  fountains 
Roll  down  their  golden  sand." 

Well,  there  is  gold  to  be  found  sometimes  in  the  rivers 


OLAF'S  FIRST  BEAR.  139 

of  Africa;  and  the  shores  of  many  a  green  little  island  on 
which  I  have  landed  in  the  blue  Indian  Ocean  are  white 
with  coral  sand,  but  if  Colin  expected  to  see  mountains  of  ice 
towering  to  the  sky  in  this  particular  region — and  he  had 
expected  so — he  was  very  much  mistaken  indeed. 

At  daybreak  next  morning  the  Bladder-nose  was  off  the 
main  ice-pack.  She  had  been  passing  through  stream  after 
stream  of  small  bergs  long  before  she  reached  it,  and  many 
a  stream  of  soft  slush  or  half-melted  snow. 

But  where  were  the  icy  mountains?  Nowhere  to  be 
seen.  Instead  of  them  this  is  precisely  what  Colin  saw  from 
the  main-top,  whither  he  had  betaken  himself  to  have  a 
look  round : 

Above  was  a  blue  and  cloudless  sky,  with  here  and  there 
a  few  feathery  clouds,  each  one,  apparently,  no  bigger  than  a 
table-cover.  Away  to  the  east,  as  far  as  eye  could  see,  nothing 
save  the  deep,  dark,  indigo-coloured  ocean,  ruffled  by  a 
gentle  breeze  from  the  west — thus  blowing  off  the  ice. 
There  was  not  ~a  sign  of  life  of  any  kind  to  be  seen  in  that 
direction.  Now,  westwards  and  north-west,  when  he  turned 
his  eyes,  he  perceived  a  vast  plain  of  snow,  no  clear  ice 
anywhere;  and  this  mighty  snow  prairie  was  only  raised 
here  and  there  into  tiny  hills  or  hummocks,  most  of  them 
rounded,  others  square,  showing  how  pieces  of  bay  ice 
had  been  heaped  up  one  above  the  other  like  a  pack  of 
cards.  The  edge  of  this  ice-pack  was  not  more  than  three  or 
four  feet  high,  so  that  a  seaman  with  legs  of  ordinary  length 
could  easily  step  on  to  it  from  a  whaler-boat,  or  even  from 
the  dinghy;  and  this  edge  was  clean  cut.  Between  the  ship 
and  the  edge  of  the  ice-pack — she  sailed  about  one  hundred 
yards  from  it — was  the  deep,  dark  sea. 

Colin  was  greatly  struck  by  the  intensity  of  its  colour, 
which-  an  artist  might  have  painted  of  the  blackest  blue. 
This  depth  of  colour  was  really  an  optical  illusion,  the 
peculiar  shade  being  merely  one  of  comparison  with  the 
extreme  whiteness  of  the  glittering  snow,  for  the  water  of 
the  Polar  sea  is  as  clear  and  sparkling  as  that  of  the  Pacific 
or  Indian  Ocean. 

To  say  that  Colin  was  a  little  disappointed  at  the  absence 


140         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

of  those  icy  mountains  he  had  dreamed  of,  would  be  only 
half  the  truth,  for  he  felt  slightly  disgusted.  Joseph,  the 
mate,  came  up  the  ratlins  presently,  and  took  his  stand 
beside  our  hero  in  the  top. 

Noticing  the  look  of  disappointment  in  his  face,  Joseph 
burst  into  one  of  those  merry  laughs  of  his : 

"Why,  lad,"  he  said,  "has  your  bank  broken,  then,  or  is 
your  great-grandmother  dead  and  not  left  you  anything1? 
Come,  Master  Colin,  whence  these  weeps?" 

"0,  there's  nothing  the  matter,  only  I  did  expect  to  see 
ice.  Why  !  do  you  call  that  the  pack1?" 

"  To  be  sure.     What  does  it  look  like  ?" 

"  Look  like  !  Why,  like  a  morass,  a  peat-moss,  or  a  bog 
after  the  first  fall  of  snow  in  Scotland." 

"See  yonder,"  cried  Joseph,  pointing  far  ahead  to  a 
hummock  near  the  edge  of  the  pack.  "Have  you  any 
gentlemen  like  those  in  your  Scotch  peat-mosses,  eh?" 

Colin  was  gazing  in  the  direction  indicated  by  Joseph, 
and  soon  could  descry  on  the  top  of  the  hummock,  which 
was  one  of  the  tallest,  a  yellow  spot.  This  yellow  spot,  as 
the  vessel  drew  nearer,  resolved  itself  into  the  lines  and 
lineaments  of  a  huge  Arctic  bear. 

"What  is  he  standing  there  for1?"  said  Colin. 

"  Why,  he  is  counting  the  chances  of  getting  something 
to  eat  from  the  ship.  Times  are  hard  with  him,  for  the 
seals  have  not  come  yet,  and  he  is  lean  and  hungry  and 
savage  after  his  long  winter's  sleep  and  fast.  He  is  hoping 
that  we  will  take  the  ice,  then  he  may  have  a  ham-bone  or 
the  leg  of  the  Lapp  boy  that  looks  after  Olaf  and  Seabird, 
or  your  leg,  Colin.  O,  I  can  tell  you,  Bruin  isn't  a  bit  dainty." 

"A  large  bear  on  the  ice  out  yonder,  sir!"  Joseph  now 
shouted  down  towards  the  quarter-deck.  "  Shall  you  send 
a  boat?" 

"0  yes,"  came  Captain  Reynolds'  reply;  "we'll  have  him 
for  luck." 

The  day  before  this  all  six  boats  had  been  cleared  and 
got  out,  and  they  now  hung  to  their  davits,  three  on  each 
side,  right  over  the  water,  and  all  ready  to  lower.  There 
was  the  dinghy  besides,  that  hung  right  astern. 


OLAF'S  FIRST  BEAR.  141 

"  Tell  us,  mate,  when  to  lower." 

"Ay,  ay,  sir." 

"Captain  Eeynolds,  sir,"  said  Olaf.  He  was  standing 
alone  beside  the  skipper  on  the  port  or  windward  side  of 
the  ship. 

"  Yes,  my  lad." 

"  0,  I'm  not  such  a  lad  as  I  look,  sir.  I'm  going  to  prove 
myself  a  man  to-day,  if  you  please." 

"Yes;  what's  in  your  noddle1?" 

Instead  of  answering  this  question  in  a  direct  way,  Olaf 
put  another. 

" How  long  do  bears  live?" 

"  0,  for  twenty  years  and  more  sometimes." 

"Is  it  possible  that  that  bear  might  be  the  one  that 
killed  my  father?" 

"What  a  strange  notion,  Olaf!" 

"Yes,  I  know;  but  is  it?" 

"It  is  possible,  but  not  probable.  Why,"  he  added, 
"from  all  accounts  the  bear  that  killed  your  poor  father 
was  a  most  audacious  brute,  and  very  likely  he  has  been 
killed  long  ago." 

"Not  so,  Captain  Reynolds.  The  bear  is  either  alive  or 
has  died  a  natural  death." 

"How  know  you?" 

"  Because  he  was  wounded  in  a  way  that  must  have  left 
peculiar  scars.  Sigurd  has  seen  or  heard  descriptions  of 
every  bear's  skin  brought  to  Britain,  Denmark,  or  Norway, 
since  poor  father's  death." 

"  I'd  lower  away  now,"  cried  Joseph  from  the  top. 

"Captain  Eeynolds,"  continued  Olaf,  "you  know  now  what 
I  mean?" 

"I  can  guess,  seeing  you  have  got  your  rifle  ready." 

"Yes,  sir.  I'd  die  happy  if  I  could  get  that  skin.  It 
is,"  Olaf  added,  "a  justifiable  revenge." 

There  was  no  fear  about  Olaf.  He  sprang  lightly,  joy- 
ously, into  the  boat  and  took  his  place  in  the  bows,  that  he 
might  be  the  first  to  spring  on  shore  upon  the  ice. 

"0!"  the  bear  must  have  said  to  himself  when  Olaf  ap- 
peared over  the  edge  of  the  ice,  "  is  this  all  that  there  is  to 


142          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

eat?  Well,  one  must  be  thankful  for  small  mercies.  Be- 
sides, though  he  is  but  tiny,  he  may  be  very  tasty,  so  here 
goes  for  breakfast." 

Bruin  advanced.  So  did  Olaf.  Then  Bruin  stopped. 
There  was  something  unusual  about  the  movements  of  his 
enemy  that  he  could  not  quite  understand. 

Olaf  had  knelt  down. 

While  Bruin  was  still  considering,  there  arose  a  puff  of 
white  smoke  from  Olaf's  gun  with  a  tongue  of  fire  in  the 
centre.  Almost  simultaneously  Bruin  felt  giddy.  He 
wavered,  staggered,  tried  to  advance,  and  fell  forward, 
dying. 

Olaf  ran  up  now  at  the  double,  and  Sigurd  followed.  The 
youth  was  bending  down  over  Bruin,  whose  white-yellow 
coat  was  drenched  in  blood,  when  Sigurd  pulled  him  quickly 
back. 

Only  just  in  time,  for  the  bear  had  staggered  to  his  feet, 
rose  partially  up,  clawing  the  air,  where  Olaf  would  have 
been,  then  emitting  a  choking  bellow,  he  tumbled  on  his 
side. 

Dead  enough  now! 

But  examination  proved  he  was  not  the  bear. 

Reader,  if  you  have  only  seen  the  bears  in  the  Zoological 
Gardens  you  can  form  no  conception  as  to  the  extraordinary 
size  and  proportions  these  kings  of  the  Polar  ice  attain. 
Their  footprints  on  the  ice  are  as  large  as  the  impression  an 
ordinary  kitchen-bellows  would  make ;  the  pastern  is  thicker 
round  than  many  a  lady's  waist,  and,  when  skinned,  the 
colossal  carcase,  as  it  lies  upon  the  ice,  is  a  sight  that  one 
can  never  forget. 

Slowly  along  the  pack  edge  the  Bladder-nose  now  went 
sailing.  Slowly,  because  the  wind  was  light,  and,  moreover, 
because  there  was  no  reason  now  for  hurry.  The  ship  had 
made  the  "country",  and  to  all  appearance  she  was  the  first 
ship  that  had  arrived.  Time  would  soon  tell,  however, 
whether  this  were  so  or  not. 

The  trend  of  the  ice  was  northwards  and  east,  and  in  this 
direction  the  vessel  was  steered.  Every  heart  on  board 


"EMITTING  A  CHOKING  BELLOW  THE  BEAR  TUMBLED 
ON  HIS  SIDE." 


AN   INK-BLACK  OCEAN.  143 

beat  high  with  hope  now.  Reynolds  looked  forward  to  his 
bumper  ship,  and  the  crew,  to  a  man,  expected  to  land  in  a 
few  months'  time  at  Lerwick  and  Fraserburgh,  and  meet 
their  mothers,  wives,  or  sweethearts  with  light  hearts  and 
heavy  pockets. 

Reynolds  was  delighted  with  both  Colin  and  Olaf  as  good 
shots.  They  would  help  materially  to  fill  the  ship  when, 
at  the  end  of  the  season,  they  got  amongst  the  old  seals. 

On  and  on  sailed  the  ship  for  days  and  days,  and  the 
wind  blew  lightly  and  steadily  from  the  west,  with  just  a 
little  northing  in  it. 

"I  wish  we  could  see  the  seals  though,"  said  Captain 
Reynolds  one  day  at  breakfast. 

"  It  won't  be  long,"  said  Sigurd  quietly. 

"Not  long,  Seabird,  and  why?" 

"  Why,  sir,  I  have  seen  to-day  the  hoid  maage." 

"What  ship  is  that?"  said  the  skipper,  raising  his  brows 
in  astonishment. 

"He  means,"  said  Olaf  laughing,  "the  ivory  gull." 

"O,  the  snow-bird,  eh?" 

"Well,  Olaf,  what  does  this  portend?"  said  Colin. 

Olaf  looked  at  Sigurd,  and  Sigurd  vouchsafed  a  few  words 
in  the  Norse. 

"  Seals  in  millions  soon  to  come.  That  is  the  translation 
of  Sigurd's  sentence." 

They  were  in  no  great  hurry,  however. 

Meanwhile  it  fell  almost  a  dead  calm,  so  the  Bladder-nose 
was  brought  alongside  the  ice,  and  made  fast  to  the  pack 
by  means  of  ice  anchors. 

This  gave  Colin  and  Olaf  a  chance  to  make  acquaintance 
with  the  pack.  They  went  over  the  side  well  armed,  and 
Sigurd  with  the  Lapp  lad — who  afterwards  proved  a  most 
energetic  and  bold  ice-man — went  along  with  them.  They 
all  carried  rifles  with  the  exception  of  Svolto,  the  Lapp, 
who  was  armed  with  a  formidable  club,  and  also  had  coils 
of  rope  around  his  shoulders  and  waist. 

These  ropes  are  called  by  the  Scotch  sealers  "lowrie 
tows",  and  are  used  for  dragging  skins,  and  at  times  they 
save  life.  Often,  but  for  the  lowrie  tow,  when  a  man  slips 


144          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

into  the  water,  he  might  lose  the  number  of  his  mess  and 
fall  a  victim  to  sharks. 

These  monsters  abound  in  the  Greenland  seas  at  sealing- 
time,  and  feed  on  the  carcases  of  seals  that  may  be  thrown 
into  the  water.  They  also  kill  and  devour  wounded  seals, 
though  I  think  it  is  but  seldom  they  attack  the  unwounded. 
Although  this  shark  —  the  Lcemargus  Borealis,  and  the 
largest  and  fiercest  in  the  world,  often  measuring  from  fifteen 
to  eighteen  feet  in  length — is  very  partial  to  seal's  flesh,  he 
will  eat  almost  anything. 

But  as  far  as  dragging  any  one  from  the  water  was  con- 
cerned, the  Lapp's  "lowrie  tow"  was  not  needed  to-day.  For 
although  the  ice-floes  were  not  frozen  together,  they  were 
packed  very  close,  and  there  was  scarcely  any  motion  visible 
among  them. 

Our  heroes  went  on  over  the  pack-ice  for  miles,  and  when- 
ever they  came  to  a  hummock,  Olaf  and  Colin  got  on  the  top, 
and  bringing  their  lorgnettes  into  focus,  had  a  good  look  all 
round.  The  bears  were  scarce,  as  yet,  however,  and  none 
of  the  party  had  a  chance  of  drawing  a  trigger.  But  they 
came  back  both  hungry  and  happy,  so  their  first  day  had 
not  been  altogether  unprofitable. 

Besides,  Sigurd,  who  was  nothing  if  not  an  enthusiastic 
ice-man,  had  taken  the  opportunity  of  explaining  some  little 
odds  and  ends  concerning  the  formation  of  the  various  kinds 
of  ice  to  be  found  in  the  pack. 

Sigurd  was  not  a  very  learned  individual,  but  he  had  a 
good  deal  of  common  sense  in  that  solid  figure-head  of  his. 
Put  into  English,  his  little  ice-lecture,  which  was  delivered 
as  they  all  sat  together  on  top  of  a  high  hummock,  would 
have  run  somewhat  as  follows : 

"Concerning  the  formation  of  those  huge  pieces  of  flat 
ice  which  we  see  around  us,  many  of  them  forty  and  fifty 
feet  square,  and  lying  deep  in  the  water,  I  can  tell  you 
little.  They  are  formed  high  up  towards  the  Pole,  and 
floated  down  here,  covered  with  snow,  just  as  you  see  them, 
Olaf.  When  this  ice  becomes  detached  from  the  pack,  and 
floats  in  single  bergs  southwards,  it  is  very  dangerous  to  the 
shipping.  I've  been  in  many  a  ship,  Colin,  that  has  been 


AN   INK-BLACK  OCEAN.  145 

stove  in  by  one  of  these  pieces  being  dashed  against  her 
ribs,  with  the  send  of  a  wave  or  send  of  the  wind  and  sea 
combined.  Sometimes  a  ship  has  to  pass  through  streams, 
as  we  call  them,  consisting  of  tens  of  thousands  of  them. 
Well,  as  you  know,  Olaf,  our  Greenland  ships  are  all  tre- 
mendously strong,  or  doubly  fortified  as  it  is  called,  and  the 
bows  are  solid  and  shod  with  iron.  Well,  in  passing  through 
streams  of  large,  loose  ice,  a  good  man  at  the  helm  will  always 
put  his  ship  straight  for  the  largest  berg.  He  rams  that. 
This  is  considered  preferable  to  being  rammed.  If  the  ship 
is  struck  amidships,  or  in  the  quarter,  or  even  abaft  the 
bows  by  a  big  berg,  it  is  ten  to  one  if  she  floats  much 
longer,  unless  the  terrible  leak  can  be  stopped  by  listing  her 
over  and  covering  it  up  with  sail-cloth  or  even  blankets. 

"  The  little  streams  of  ice  we  passed  through  as  we  came 
north  are  for  the  most  part  composed  of  corners  knocked  off 
the  large  pieces,  or  they  are  the  large  pieces  that  have 
drifted  about  until  the  action  of  the  water  has  reduced  them 
in  size. 

"  Now  look,  Olaf.  You  see  that  large  piece  of  very  clear 
ice  lying  on  top  of  the  snow?" 

"Yes,  Sigurd." 

"That  is  fresh  water  formed  by  the  melting  of  snow, 
which  is  afterwards  frozen.  That  piece  of  greenish  trans- 
parent ice  lying  near  it  is  salt-water  ice." 

"  And  yet,"  said  Colin,  "  I  have  heard  a  learned  professor 
say  that  there  was  no  salt-water  ice;  that  in  freezing  the 
salt  was  deposited." 

"To  some  extent  only,  Colin.  Your  learned  professor, 
who,  perhaps,  was  not  so  learned  after  all,  ought  to  come 
up  here  to  the  'country'  and  taste  a  bit.  I  wonder  how  he 
would  like  a  lump  of  that  pale  green  boulder  to  cool  his 
brandy-and-water. 

"  Now,  Olaf,  looking  west  yonder,  don't  you  see  a  large 
expanse  of  low,  flat,  but  perfectly  level  ice  covered  with  snow?" 

"  Yes,  Sigurd,  and  it  looks  for  all  the  world  like  a  Nor- 
wegian lake  in  mid-winter." 

"That  is  the  surface  of  the  sea  covered  with  comparatively 
thin  ice.  At  first  it  was  exceedingly  thin;  but,  even  after 

(988)  K 


146          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

one  night's  frost,  it  is  so  strong,  you  could  skate,  or  perhaps 
ski  over  it.  Hardly  could  you  walk,  however;  but  men  often- 
times have  to  cross  light,  bending  ice,  and  this  they  do  by 
throwing  themselves  flat  on  it,  thus  distributing  their  weight, 
and,  with  arms  extended,  they  then  wriggle  across. 

"  The  bay  ice,  as  it  is  called,  becomes  thicker  and  thicker 
while  the  frost  lasts.  Snow  falls  and  covers  it,  then  by  and 
by  a  swell  comes  in  from  afar,  and  this  thick,  snow-covered 
bay  ice  is  broken  up  into  pieces.  These  pieces  knock  toge- 
ther, so  that  an  edge  of  snow  is  raised  all  round,  and  it  is 
then  spoken  of  as  pancake  ice. 

"  But  something  else  may  happen.  A  storm  comes  on,  we 
will  suppose.  The  wind  blows  high  from  the  east,  and  the 
great  bergs  are  jammed  tighter  and  tighter  together  every 
hour.  Ill  fares  it  then  with  the  pancake  ice,  Olaf.  It  has  to 
yield  to  force  of  circumstances.  This  force  grinds  much  of 
it  to  pieces;  it  sinks,  some  beneath  the  pack,  and  some  of  it 
is  raised  up  and  thrown  on  top  of  the  snow,  just  like  the 
leaves  of  a  great  book." 

"And  in  this  way,  I  suppose,"  said  Colin;  "those  square 
hummocks  would  be  formed." 

"And  many  of  the  rounded  ones  too,  perhaps,"  said 
Sigurd.  "This  very  hummock  on  which  we  now  sit  may 
have  been  formed  in  an  ice-crush.  Snow  blown  over  it, 
would  afterwards  deprive  it  of  its  square  form." 

"But  that  bay  ice,  when  of  sufficient  thickness,"  said 
Colin,  "must  be  very  safe  to  walk  upon.  No  danger  of 
falling  through." 

"0,  there  you  make  a  mistake,  Colin.  For,  during  the 
season,  in  times  of  frost  when  the  floes  are  glued  together, 
the  seals  make  use  of  the  bay  ice.  They  bore  or  melt  with 
their  breath  and  the  heat  of  their  noses  holes  in  it,  through 
which  they  can  breathe.  These  holes  are  soon  covered  by 
thin  ice  and  a  little  snow.  They  are  called  pussy-holes  by 
the  Scotch,  and  a  person  who  is  no  practical  ice-man  does 
not  perceive  them,  till  presently  he  treads  upon  one,  then 
he  has  one  of  the  dullest  experiences  I  know.  His  body 
sinks  up  to  the  arm-pits;  for,  of  course,  he  has  the  sense  to 
extend  his  arms — and  his  legs  seem  to  tread  upon  nothing." 


SEALS  IN  THEIR  MILLIONS.  147 

"I  should  think,"  said  Colin  laughing,  "that  this  cold 
kind  of  joke  is  more  relished  by  the  onlookers  than  by  the 
poor  fellow  who  gets  the  plunge." 

"True;  but  they  speedily  extricate  him,  else  a  passing 
shark  might  make  a  point  of  investigating  matters  too 
closely  for  the  comfort  of  the  individual  most  concerned, 
and  drag  him  through  altogether. 

"  If,  after  he  has  been  assisted  out,  the  frost  is  very  hard, 
the  sooner  the  man  gets  on  board  some  ship  the  better." 

"Well,"  said  Olaf,  "I  mean  to  keep  my  weather-eye 
lifting,  when  I  venture  upon  ice,  for  I  should  hate  falling 
down  a  pussy-hole." 

In  such  a  calm  sea  there  was  little  or  no  motion  of  the 
ship's  masts,  so  that  even  Colin  did  not  hesitate  to  go  fre- 
quently up  to  the  crow's-nest.  There  was  room  there  for 
two,  and  some  one  was  constantly  on  the  watch. 

One  day  Colin  entered,  while  the  mate  himself  was  on 
duty.  Perhaps  Colin's  sight  was  even  better  than  that  of 
the  mate,  for  after  looking  through  the  telescope  for  a  short 
time  he  cried : 

"  Why,  Joseph,  I  see  a  whole  crowd  of  little  black  dots 
on  the  dark  surface  of  the  sea!" 

"Where?  where?"  exclaimed  the  mate,  becoming  much 
excited  all  at  once. 

"Just  out  yonder,"  Colin  answered,  pointing  northward 
and  east. 

Up  went  Joseph's  glass.  He  took  just  one  glance,  then 
he  appeared  to  take  leave  of  his  senses  all  at  once. 

"Hurrah!"  he  shouted.  He  even  waved  his  cap,  and 
shouted  the  same  word  over  and  over  again. 

He  did  not  seem  to  come  to  himself  until  hailed  by  the 
captain  from  the  quarter-deck. 

"Crow's-nest,  ahoy!     See  anything,  mate?" 

Then  Joseph  looked  over  the  rim  of  the  nest. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  he  cried,  "  that  I  do.  Seals  are  coming.  The 
water  some  miles  ahead  yonder  is  black  with  their  heads." 

You  ought  to  have  been  on  board  the  Bladder-nose  then, 
reader.  It  would  have  done  your  heart  good  to  have  heard 


148          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

the  rousing  British  cheer,  that  seemed  to  shake  the  ship  from 
stem  to  stern. 

Those  below  rushed  madly  on  deck  to  join  it,  and  even 
some  of  Rudland  Syme's  patients,  with  very  little  on  their 
backs  indeed,  were  seen  among  the  cheering  crowd  of  sea- 
men. 

The  steward  ran  up  to  the  captain. 

"Is  it  true,  sir?"  he  said. 

"  True,  steward  ?     That  it  is." 

"Hurrah!"  cried  the  steward;  "then  I  suppose  I  may 
splice  the  main-brace?" 

Now,  the  Bladder-nose  was  almost  a  teetotal  ship.  Nearly 
all  the  men  were  old  hands,  and  they  knew  right  well  that 
for  cold  weather  coffee  is  by  far  and  away  the  best  stimu- 
lant. So  it  was  only  during  very  hard  work,  or  on  Saturday 
nights,  that  grog  was  served  out. 

But,  on  this  conspicuous  occasion,  what  could  Captain  Rey- 
nolds do  but  comply  with  the  steward's  request.  So,  as  he 
made  up  his  mind  to  do  so,  he  did  it  cheerfully. 

"  Yes,  steward,  yes;  by  all  manner  of  means  let  the  main- 
brace  be  spliced." 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE   IVORY   GULL   HAS  FLOWN  AWAY  " — "  ALL  IS  FAIR  IN 


WHEN  sail  was  set,  there  was  just  wind  enough  to  carry 
the  good  ship  off  the  ice,  but  hardly  sufficient  to  bear 
her  along  as  swiftly  as  those  seals  were  driving  through  the 
water.  So  the  lovely  and  intelligent  creatures  passed  them 
in  their  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands,  swimming  south- 
wards and  west  and  keeping  pretty  close  to  the  pack  edge. 

Curiosity  is  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  traits  in  the 
character  of  the  Greenland  seal,  and  now  many  of  these 
beautiful  creatures  paused  to  gaze  at  the  ship. 

I  wonder  if  any  of  them  remembered  the  events  of  years 


"THE  IVORY  GULL  HAS  FLOWN  AWAY."      149 

gone  by,  and  of  terrible  massacres  that  had  taken  place  on 
the  blood-stained  pack  by  "monsters"  like  those  they  now 
saw  gazing  over  the  bulwarks  at  them.  Monsters  with  pale 
faces,  who  walked  endways,  and  had  strange  weapons  in 
their  flippers,  from  which  came  thunder  and  lightning,  and 
which  dealt  death  among  their  ranks,  or  terrible  and  painful 
wounds. 

Perhaps  some  seals  did  remember  this.  But  there  was 
no  time  now  to  spare.  They  could  not  wait  to  think  or 
consider.  They  were  bearing  up  for  a  somewhat  warmer 
latitude,  where  the  ice  was  not  so  high  and  rugged  as  it  is 
up  north,  and  so  nature  urged  them  on. 

The  Bladder-nose  was  now  going  back  in  her  course.  She 
must  follow  the  seals.  She  was  following  fortune.  So  at 
least  Captain  Reynolds  and  his  mate  most  firmly  believed. 

"  How  strange,  isn't  it,  Joseph,"  he  said  that  day  while  at 
dinner,  "that  everything  seems  to  turn  out  precisely  as  I 
predicted?  Seabird,  your  gull  with  the  unpronounceable 
name  has  brought  us  good  luck.  What  is  it  you  call  it? 
Because  I  have  forgotten." 

"  The  hoid  maage,"  said  Sigurd,  with  a  quiet  smile.  "But," 
he  added,  "the  bird  is  still  with  us." 

"I  have  seen  it,  Seabird,  I  have  seen  it,  and  I  have  given 
orders  that  no  one  shall  shoot  or  molest  it." 

"  0  no,"  said  Sigurd,  with  a  potato  on  his  fork,  "  to  kill 
it  would  bring  us  ill-luck,  surely." 

The  ivory  gull  (Larus  Eburneus)  or  snow-bird  is  of  all 
gulls  the  most  beautiful  and  graceful.  It  is  as  white 
as  the  driven  snow,  and  every  attitude  of  flight  or  motion 
is  elegance  personified,  if  I  may  so  phrase  it. 

Our  men,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  often  kill  this  lovely  creature 
most  wantonly.  Some,  again,  shoot  it  for  the  sake  of  having 
it  stuffed;  but  the  taxidermist  does  not  live  who  could  set 
this  bird  up  so  as  to  give  any  just  idea  of  its  extreme 
beauty  and  elegance.  Besides,  the  slightest  touch  destroys, 
to  some  extent,  the  snowy  whiteness  of  its  plumage.  But 
the  Norwegians — many  of  them,  at  all  events — look  upon 
the  bird  as  a  creature  that  scarcely  belongs  to  this  wrorld  at 
all.  To  kill  it,  therefore,  or  to  scare  it  away,  would  be 


150         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

to  court  every  species  of  ill-luck  that  can  be  imagined  as 
befalling  a  ship. 

In  a  day  or  two  the  officers  and  crew  of  the  Bladder-nose 
had  the  extreme  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  seals  taking  the 
ice  by  thousands — countless  thousands,  indeed. 

The  nights  were  now  very  short,  it  is  true,  but  during  the 
semi-darkness,  just  a  little  after  the  middle  watch  was 
called,  those  on  deck  could  hear  sounds  coming  from  the 
pack  that  told  them  the  puppy  seals  were  coming  fast. 

This  was  so;  and  when  Colin  and  Olaf  went  on  deck 
next  day  after  breakfast  they  could  see,  by  means  of  their 
lorgnettes,  that  almost  every  piece  of  ice  was  the  cold 
cradle  for  over  a  dozen  young  seals. 

What  lovely  wee  babes  those  young  seals  do  look,  to  be 
sure !  I  know  no  young  animal,  not  even  a  Newfoundland 
or  collie  puppy,  that  is  half  so  beautiful,  or  that  seems  to 
appeal  more  to  one  for  help  and  sympathy.  They  are  of  no 
great  size  at  first — though  they  speedily  grow — probably 
about  eighteen  inches  long;  but  they  are  completely 
swaddled  in  their  jackets  of  long  whitish  yellow  fur, 
nothing  of  them  being  visible  except  their  noses  and 
beautiful  eyes.  And  yet  it  is  on  the  death  of  these  inno- 
cent little  creatures  that  so  many  ships  every  year,  both 
from  our  own  country  and  from  Norway  and  Denmark, 
depend  for  a  good  voyage. 

As  soon  as  the  young  seals  are  old  enough  to  kill  they 
are  killed,  and  that,  too,  in  the  most  cruel  and  ruthless 
manner.  I  do  not  want  to  shock  my  readers,  but  I  must 
say  that  the  cruelties  perpetrated  on  both  the  young  seals 
and  their  mothers,  during  the  season,  are  revolting  in  the 
extreme.  I  have  known  those  helpless  innocents  flayed 
before  the  life  was  quite  out  of  their  bodies.  And  I  have 
seen  a  man — human  fiend  rather — plant  a  rough  hobnailed 
boot  upon  a  young  seal,  that  its  plaintive  cry  might  lure 
the  mother  up  from  the  water  to  meet  her  doom  and  die 
beside  it. 

I  think  it  was  lucky  for  our  heroes,  upon  the  whole,  that 
they  were  spared  the  terrible  and  ghastly  scenes  of  a  ship's 
crew  engaged  in  the  wholesale  murder  of  these  innocents. 


"THE   IVORY  GULL  HAS  FLOWN   AWAY."  151 

How  it  came  about  that  they  missed  seeing  such  a  reign  of 
terror,  I  must  briefly  tell  you. 

It  had  been  the  intention  of  Captain  Reynolds  to  lie  off 
the  great  pack,  until  the  whole  mighty  army  of  seals  had 
taken  to  the  ice,  until  the  pups  were  born,  and  until  they 
were  large  enough  to  kill.  The  first  day  passed  away,  and 
the  second — but  lo!  on  the  morning  of  the  third,  Sigurd 
came  below  to  make  a  report  to  Captain  Reynolds,  who 
was  just  sitting  down  to  breakfast. 

" Hullo,  Seabird!"  said  the  Captain.  "Why,  what  is  the 
matter?  you  look  as  pale  as  a  new  half-crown!  Have  you 
seen  a  ghost  V 

"  Worse,  sir,  far;  the  ivory  gull  has  flown  away." 

"Well,  I'm  not  superstitious,  if  you  are,  Seabird.  Sit 
down,  my  good  fellow,  and  have  your  breakfast.  The  bird, 
you  know,  may  return." 

"Never,  sir;  and  all  our  good  luck  has  gone." 

Colin  observed  that  Sigurd  ate  but  very  little  breakfast, 
and  that  he  paused  to  listen  whenever  he  heard  a  footstep 
coming  along  the  deck. 

In  about  half-an-hour's  time  there  was  a  hail  from  the 
crow's-nest : 

"On  deck  there!" 

There  was  no  officer  on  deck,  but  Captain  Reynolds 
quickly  stood  on  the  locker,  opened  the  skylight,  and 
shouted : 

"Ay,  ay,  mate;  what  do  you  see?" 

"  A  full-rigged  ship,  sir,  coming  from  the  south-south-west. 
I  can  just  raise  her  topgallant  sails." 

"  It  is  as  I  thought,"  said  Sigurd. 

And  the  captain  himself  now  lost  all  appetite,  and  soon 
went  on  deck,  leaving  even  his  coffee  untouched. 

That  forenoon,  when  the  Pelican,  a  Peterhead  ship,  came 
towards  the  ice  and  backed  her  foreyard,  Captain  Reynolds 
called  away  a  boat  at  once  and  went  on  board  of  her. 

"Ah!  how  do  you  do?"  said  her  skipper,  a  somewhat 
vulgar-looking  man  of  about  thirty.  It  was  his  very  first 
year  in  charge  of  a  ship,  he  having  been  but  second  mate 
before,  though  holding  a  master's  certificate.  He  now  felt 


152         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

exceedingly  proud,  and  addressed  his  visitor  as  simply 
"Reynolds". 

"Ah!  how  do  you  do,  Reynolds'?  So  you  thought  to 
give  us  all  the  slip,  did  you1?" 

"How  d'ye  do,  Captain  Smart?  I  certainly  made  an 
early  move,  but  then  the  great  ocean  is  free  to  all  of  us,  at 
least  I've  always  thought  so." 

"True,  true;  well,  come  down  below  and  have  a  smoke 
and  a  glass  of  grog.  So  you've  found  the  seals!  Sly  dog, 
Reynolds!" 

"I've  found  the  seals,  arid  so  have  you,  and  if  we  hold 
on  for  a  fortnight  there  is  a  bumper  ship  for  the  pair 
of  us." 

"Hold  on  for  a  fortnight!  Eh?  Come,  I  like  that.  Why 
by  that  time  there  would  be  half  a  dozen  ships  here.  No, 
no,  no;  I'll  start  sealing  this  afternoon." 

"Then  you'll  ruin  all." 

"Nonsense,  Reynolds;  a  bird  in  the  hand  is  worth  two 
in  the  bush." 

"  But  the  seals  are  no  size  yet.  Let  us  wait  a  week  at 
least." 

"  Not  I,  and  that  is  enough  about  it.  You  told  me  just 
now,  Reynolds,  that  the  ocean  was  free  to  us  all,  and  now 
I'll  tell  you  something — so  is  the  sea  of  ice  free  to  us  all." 

It  was  in  vain  arguing  with  a  blockhead  like  this,  so 
Captain  Reynolds  took  his  leave  somewhat  curtly ;  and,  sure 
enough,  the  Pelican's  boats  left  the  ship's  side  that  very  day 
to  murder  the  newly-born  seals. 

The  result  of  this  action  was  that  the  great  multitude  of 
seals  shifted  ground.  They  were  scared  out  of  their  wits. 
They  dived  under  the  ice  and  were  seen  no  more. 

Mr.  Smart  of  the  Pelican  came  on  board  next  morning. 
Captain  Reynolds  told  his  mate  afterwards  that  he  be- 
lieved Mr.  Smart  had  impudence  enough  for  anything. 
Reynolds,  however,  was  good-natured,  so  he  received  the 
man  cordially  enough. 

"  Well,  Smart,"  he  said,  as  he  shook  hands  with  him, 
"  don't  you  think  it  would  have  been  better  had  you  taken 
my  advice  ?" 


"ALL  IS   FAIR  IN   LOVE   AND   SEALING."  153 

"That  I  do  confess.  0,  it  is  just  me  all  over  again; 
never  could  take  good  advice  till  it  was  too  late.  But  what 
are  you  going  to  do  about  it,  Reynolds'?" 

"Do  about  what1?" 

"  Why,  about  the  seals,  of  course.  You  have  a  precious 
long  head  on  your  shoulders.  I  suppose  you  will  follow 
them  up?" 

"Well,  I'll  do  my  best." 

"  And  I'll  stick  to  you  like  death  to  a  defunct  nigger— 
see  1  You  follow  the  seals,  and  I'll  follow  you.  All  is  fail- 
in  love  and  sealing." 

Smart  laughed  at  his  own  wit  till  the  glasses  jingled  upon 
the  hanging  table.  Reynolds  did  not  laugh,  but  he  smiled 
as  he  made  answer: 

"  Now,  look  here,  Mr.  Captain  Smart — 

"  That's  me,  Reynolds." 

"  Yes,  that's  you,  especially  the  last  word.  But,  listen — 
there  is  small  chance  of  our  falling  in  with  the  main  army 
of  seals  this  season  again,  though,  I  don't  doubt,  we'll  find 
them  in  big  patches." 

"Yes,  you'll  find  them,  and  I'll  be  there!     Go  on." 

"Yes,  I'll  find  them;  but  if  I  can  manage  it,  Smart,  you 
won't  be  there — that  is  telling  you  straight.  I  am  just 
going  to  do  all  I  can  to  shake  you  off,  because — according 
to  your  own  words — all's  fair  in  love  and  sealing." 

"  I  see  what  you  mean,"  said  Smart,  beginning  to  look  a 
little  green  and  sour.  "  You  think  you  might  find  enough 
seals  to  make  a  bumper  ship  for  one  but  not  for  two.  Have 
I  ^ot  the  proper  hang  of  iU" 

'  I  really  think  you  have." 

'Very  well,  I'll  get  on  board  and  prepare." 

*  Prepare  for  what  1 " 

'Prepare  to  follow  the  Bladder-nose"  cried  Smart  as  he 
disappeared  over  the  side,  laughing. 

"  I  hope,"  said  Joseph,  "  we  will  manage  to  give  him  the 
slip,  sir." 

"  It  will  be  somewhat  difficult  to  do,  Joseph,  but  we  will 
try." 

It  was  a  race  at  first  between  these  two  ships.    But  it  was 


154         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

soon  discovered  on  board  the  Bladder-nose  that  the  Pelican 
was  the  best  sailer.  She  permitted  the  other  vessel  to  get 
fully  two  miles  ahead,  then  just  as  Reynolds  and  Joseph 
were  hoping  they  would  soon  see  the  last  of  Smart  and  his 
ship,  all  sail  was  clapped  on  her,  and  she  came  up  towards 
the  Bladder-nose  hand  over  hand. 

"It  is  no  good,  Joseph,"  said  the  captain  despairingly; 
"she  is  the  best  sailer,  and  we  can't  run  away  from  her 
anyhow." 

"  If  we  could  get  a  couple  of  miles  away  at  eleven  o'clock, 
we  might  give  her  the  slip  in  the  dark." 

This  from  Joseph. 

But  Smart  was  too  wily.  Clouds  had  banked  up  in  the 
sky,  there  was  every  evidence  that  it  was  going  to  blow 
from  the  south-west,  and  that,  therefore,  towards  midnight 
it  would  be  dark.  Accordingly,  as  the  sun  went  down,  the 
Pelican  drew  closer  towards  the  Bladder-nose.  And  so  the 
short  night  passed  away. 

Reynolds  went  cruising  southwards,  tack  and  half  tack, 
against  nearly  half  a  gale  of  wind.  The  wind  had  loosened 
the  ice  considerably,  and  when  it  fell  at  last,  seals  were  once 
more  reported  as  visible  from  the  mast-head,  but  they  were 
lying  far  in  upon  the  pack. 

Now  the  number  of  seals  was  comparatively  small,  but 
Captain  Reynolds  made  a  great  fuss  about  it.  He  took  the 
ice  with  the  Bladder-nose  at  once,  and  was  gratified  to  notice 
that  the  Pelican  did  the  same  about  three  or  four  hundred 
yards  farther  to  the  south. 

The  captain  was  smiling  to  himself.     So  was  Joseph. 

"Joseph,"  said  Reynolds,  "is  the  glass  rising?" 

"  That  it  is,  sir." 

Then  the  captain  nodded  and  smiled  to  the  mate,  and  the 
mate  nodded  and  smiled  back.  The  same  thought  was 
running  through  the  mind  of  each. 

"  Everything  is  fair  in  love  and  sealing,"  said  Smart  to 
his  mate.  "  We'll  show  the  Bladder-nose  how  we  can  bore 
through  the  ice.  We'll  get  among  that  patch  of  seals  first, 
and  I  guess  we'll  clear  some  of  them  up  before  Mr.  Bladder- 
nose  gets  in." 


"ALL  IS  FAIR  IN  LOVE  AND   SEALING."  155 

"Everything  is  fair  in  love  and  sealing,"  said  Reynolds  to 
his  mate.  "Mr.  Smart  wants  to  get  in  first,  doesn't  he? 
We'll  let  him." 

"  Ay,  sir,  we'll  let  him,"  said  Joseph  laughing. 

Well,  the  Pelican  bored  in  through  the  ice  under  a  tremen- 
dous press  of  canvas. 

But  the  Bladder-nose  made  hard  work  of  it,  or  pretended 
to.  Reynolds  even  sent  his  men  overboard  on  to  the  bergs, 
and  they  made  believe  they  were  clearing  a  passage  with 
their  poles,  while  in  reality  they  were  blocking  the  vessel's 
way,  and  slowing  her  progress  considerably. 

"Why,  just  look,"  cried  Smart  to  his  mate;  "the  old 
slow  coach  is  obliged  to  pole  his  ship  in.  We'll  be  half  a 
day  ahead  of  him,  and  more  too.  Hurrah!" 

At  ten  o'clock  that  night  the  Pelican  was  close  enough  to 
the  seals  to  send  her  men  over  the  side,  while  the  Bladder- 
nose  was  "pottering  away",  as  Smart  called  it,  nearly  three 
miles  astern. 

The  Pelican's  men  went  warily  to  work.  They  had  ex- 
pected to  find  young  seals.  But  in  reality  it  was  only  a 
patch  of  old  males.  These  wily  gentlemen  keep  to  them- 
selves at  pupping-time.  They  form  a  club,  as  it  were,  and 
are  very  friendly  indeed  until,  in  about  three  weeks'  time, 
the  ladies  join  them.  Then  they  quarrel ! 

I  think  it  was  about  half-past  eleven,  or  perhaps  nearer 
midnight,  before  Mr.  Smart  discovered  that  he  had  been 
completely  trapped.  The  stars  were  now  shining  very 
brightly,  the  little  wind  there  was  was  veering  round  to  the 
east.  And  the  Bladder-nose  was  making  the  most  of  her 
way  back  towards  the  open  sea. 

Smart  had  to  recall  his  men,  but  before  they  all  got  on 
board  once  more,  the  Bladder-nose  was  clear  and  the  Pelican 
was  frozen  in  hard  and  fast. 

Now,  Captain  Reynolds  was  not  by  any  means  a  revenge- 
ful man,  yet  before  he  sailed  away  that  morning  he  could 
not  resist  the  temptation  to  hoist  a  signal  to  his  imprisoned 
friend  Smart.  It  was  Joseph's  suggestion,  and  Joseph  was 
permitted  to  do  as  he  liked  about  it.  So  the  signal,  when 
Smart's  mate  succeeded  in  spelling  it  out,  was  as  follows: 


156          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"All  is  fair  in  love  and  sealing.     Good-lye" 

"I  am  afraid,"  said  Joseph,  as  he  hauled  down  the  last 
of  the  flags,  "  that  signal  has  spoiled  Mr.  Smart's  appetite 
for  breakfast." 

The  Bladder-nose  was  now  steered  south  in  search  of  the 
seals,  and  it  was  not  long  before  she  fell  in  with  some  very 
lucrative  patches.  She  lay  near  these  until  the  young  were 
large  enough  to  kill,  and  then  began  the  murder  of  the 
innocents,  which  I  have  already  mentioned.  But  the  great 
army  of  seals  had  been  thoroughly  scared  and  scattered, 
and  did  not  come  together  again  as  a  whole. 

Captain  Reynolds  found  his  first  batch  of  young  seals 
somewhat  south  of  the  latitude  of  the  island  of  Jan  Mayen, 
the  tall  mountain  summit  of  which  was  distinctly  visible 
from  the  deck,  glittering  against  the  blue  of  the  Arctic  sky 
like  a  gigantic  sugar-loaf.  He  found  his  second  much 
farther  south,  and  his  third  south  of  that.  His  success  was 
becoming  assured. 

"We  may  not  turn  out  the  bumper  ship,"  he  said  to 
Joseph,  "  that  I  had  looked  forward  to,  but  nevertheless,  if 
I  get  another  thousand  skins,  I  shall  not  be  afraid  to  face 
my  owners." 

So  he  continued  working  south. 

The  season  had  now  advanced  so  far  that  the  sun  did  not 
set  at  all,  it  simply  went  round  and  round  the  sky,  shining 
at  midnight  just  as  brightly  as  at  noon,  only  with  this  differ- 
ence, that  at  midnight  it  was  much  nearer  to  the  horizon. 

And  now  as  Captain  Reynolds  goes  on  working  farther 
and  farther  south  with  varied  success,  I  shall  take  the 
opportunity  of  telling  you  something  more  than  has  yet 
come  out  in  this  story  concerning  his  character. 

It  may  seem  a  little  surprising  that  a  youth  born  and 
reared  during  the  early  part  of  his  life  on  a  farm,  far  away 
from  the  boom  of  the  breakers  or  dash  of  angry  waves 
against  the  rocks,  far  away  from  the  sight  of  ships  or  even 
boats,  should  become  enamoured  of  a  life  on  the  ocean 
wave.  It  was  so  in  the  case  of  young  Osgood  Reynolds 
at  all  events,  account  for  it  how  we  may. 


"ALL   IS   FAIR  IN   LOVE  AND   SEALING."  157 

His  father  was  a  farmer,  and  not  a  very  wealthy  one 
either,  farming,  indeed,  only  about  a  hundred  acres  on  the 
banks  of  the  beautiful  Deveron,  'twixt  the  shires  of  Banff 
and  Aberdeen. 

Osgood  was  a  quiet  and  dreamy  sort  of  boy  when  very 
young;  but  none  the  less  energetic  when  he  had  anything 
to  do,  or  was  set  by  his  father  or  mother  to  some  work  that 
he  liked.  Whether  he  liked  it  or  not,  I  may  tell  you  that 
Osgood  did  it,  and  did  it  carefully  too.  Yes,  Osgood  was 
quiet,  he  did  not  speak  a  deal;  but  then,  perhaps,  boys  of 
this  kind  are  like  the  Irishman's  parrot,  they  think  all  the 
more. 

Was  Osgood  imaginative1?  Ah!  there  we  have  it,  and  it 
is  my  opinion,  nay,  I  think  I  have  proved  it  ere  now  in 
fact,  that  an  imaginative  boy  often  turns  out  a  very  real 
man.  What  are  merely  fancies  or  longings  in  boyhood 
change  as  the  lad  gets  older.  There  was  nothing,  perhaps, 
to  indicate  that  Eeynolds — who  was  far  from  being  a  very 
cheerful  comrade  at  school,  and  much  preferred  solitude 
when  free,  to  the  companionship  of  the  roystering  country 
boys  he  had  to  herd  with  indoors — would  ever  turn  out  to 
be  anything  out  of  the  common.  I  have  used  the  word 
"solitude",  but  was  it  solitude  which  the  lad  was  enjoying, 
while  wandering  all  by  himself  on  the  banks  and  braes  of 
the  beautiful  river,  across  many  a  lonesome  heathy  moor, 
and  in  the  dark  depths  of  the  pine-woods'?  Very  much  the 
reverse,  I  think.  He  had  companions  that  his  thoughtless 
comrades  little  knew  about.  The  birds  in  the  wood  sang 
to  him  and  told  him  stories  of  far-off  lands,  that  they  had 
visited  on  their  fleet  wings.  The  coneys  and  hares,  that 
seemed  not  a  whit  afraid  of  him,  and  hopped  close  by  him 
as  he  lay  on  a  bank  of  moss,  told  him  tales  also.  They  had 
not  travelled  so  far  as  the  birds,  they  had  not  visited  sunny 
lands  beyond  the  seas  where  flowers  bloom  for  ever  beneath 
the  bright  cerulean  sky;  but  they  had  been  away  across  the 
blue  mountains  yonder,  and  had  seen  many  strange  things 
and  encountered  many  strange  adventures,  and  they  told  all 
to  Osgood  Reynolds. 

And  even  the  moles  and  moudieworts  had  stories  to  tell 


158         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

him  of  the  wondrous  life  they  led  deep  down  in  the  earth; 
of  the  caves  therein  that  formed  their  homes,  of  the  long 
tunnels  that  ran  here,  there,  and  everywhere,  of  their  mossy 
beds  where  sleep  was  sound  and  safe,  because  they  were 
watched  over  by  good  little  fairies  such  as  Osgood  had  read 
of  in  books.  It  was  true,  they  admitted,  that  sunshine 
never  penetrated  into  their  caves  and  galleried  homes;  but, 
they  told  Osgood,  they  had  a  light  that  was  far  more 
pleasant — phosphorescent  lamps,  that  glowed  and  gleamed 
in  all  directions,  so  that  it  was  never  really  dark. 

But  Osgood  permitted  his  imagination  to  roam  a  little 
farther  than  the  woods  and  hills.  He  had  not  wings  like 
the  swallows  and  martins,  and  could  not  fly  away  to 
far-off  foreign  lands,  much  though  he  should  have  loved 
to  do  so.  But  there  was  the  river.  That  was  a  source  of 
never-ending  delight  to  the  boy.  He  was  the  largest  ship- 
owner in  all  broad  Scotland.  Never  a  day  passed  that  he 
did  not  send  freighted  ships  away  to  sea,  and  never  a  day 
passed  that  one  did  not  return.  And  the  sailors  had  such 
wondrous  stories  to  tell.  All  imagination,  it  is  true.  Well, 
girls  have  dolls,  and  playing  at  being  mothers  and  little 
housekeepers  does  them  good.  Why  should  not  boys  have 
ships  ? 

I  can  tell  the  reader  this :  though  Osgood  was  only  play- 
ing at  being  a  ship-owner,  though  his  craft  were  but  the 
tiniest  wee  tubs  he  had  whittled  with  his  knife  from  mor- 
sels of  wood,  and  with  rigged  match- work  masts  and  muslin 
sails,  the  occupation  did  him  good,  and  was  fitting  and  pre- 
paring him  to  face  the  stern  realities  of  life. 

One  day  the  clergyman  of  his  parish  found  Osgood  at  the 
river-side.  He  was  close  behind  him  when  the  boy  saw  him 
first,  and  from  the  smile  on  his  face  Osgood  guessed  he  had 
been  there  for  some  time,  so  he  blushed  as  red  as  a  ragged 
robin — the  flower,  I  mean,  not  the  bird.  You  see,  Osgood  had 
been  talking  aloud.  He  was  just  starting  off  a  full-rigged 
ship  to  San  Domingo,  and  he  had  to  give  his  captain  all  his 
orders,  and  tell  him  what  to  bring  back,  and  all  the  rest 
of  it. 

Osgood  imagined  that  the  Rev.  S.  Stronach  would  think 


"ALL  IS  FAIR  IN   LOVE  AND   SEALING".  159 

him  a  fool.  But  he  was  a  kindly  old  man  and  a  boy  at 
heart,  and  he  not  only  entered  into  Osgood's  play  of  starting 
off  that  ship  to  San  Domingo,  but  he  gave  the  captain  of  the 
fairy  craft  much  good  advice,  and  told  of  many  things  he 
might  bring  home  that  Osgood  had  never  thought  or 
known  of. 

"Have  you  been  long  at  sea,  sir]"  said  Osgood. 

"No,  my  little  man." 

Osgood  opened  his  blue  eyes  a  little  wider. 

"  You  wonder,  I  suppose,"  said  the  minister,  "  how  I  appear 
to  know  so  much  about  the  sea  and  about  foreign  countries. 
Well,  I  have  gained  all  my  knowledge  from  books.  You 
haven't  many  books,  I  suppose?  I  will  lend  you  books  to 
read,"  he  continued,  patting  the  boy's  bare,  curly  head,  for 
Osgood  had  sighed  and  glanced  longingly  across  the  river 
at  the  woods.  But  I'm  sure  he  did  not  see  them. ,  He  was 
thinking  and  silent. 

0,  reader,  you  should  have  been  there  just  then  to  see 
the  bright,  glad  sparkle  that  came  to  Osgood's  eyes,  the 
happy  smile  that  went  curving  round  his  mouth  and  lit  up 
his  whole  face. 

"Will  you?     You  will?     Sir,  sir,  you  are  so  good!" 

"  Come  and  see  me  to-morrow  afternoon  at  the  manse. 
Good-day." 

Osgood  cleared  his  full-rigged  ship  out  of  dock  with  all 
haste,  waved  his  hand  to  the  captain  as  she  went  sailing  down 
the  river,  then  ran  home  to  tell  his  mother  of  his  adventure. 

"A'  honour  to  the  gweed1  kin'  man,"  she  said,  "and  a 
fine  sermon  he  preaches  on  Sawbath;  but  'deed,  laddie,  if 
ye'd  learn  to  milk  the  kye  and  herd  the  nowt  it  wad  be  far 
better  than  stuffin'  yer  heid  wi'  nonsense  aboot  foreign  lands." 

"But,  midder,2  I'm  goin'  to  be  a  sailor." 

"Never  wi'  my  will,  laddie.  Never,  I  houp,  while  I'm 
abeen  the  grun'."  3 

Mr.  Stronach  welcomed  Osgood  right  heartily.  The  boy 
had  rigged  himself  out  in  his  Sunday's  best  for  the  occasion. 
After  tea  the  parson  said : 

"Now,  my  boy,  to  speak  in  the  dialect  of  the  district,  I 

i  Good.  2  Mother.  »  Above  the  earth. 


160         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

think  there  is  mair  in  you  than  the  speen l  put  in.  You've 
got  mental  as  well  as  physical  qualities,  so  you  can  come 
here  and  read  whenever  you  like,  and  I'll  give  you  any  book 
you  choose  to  take  home  with  you.  Now  come  with  me; 
I'm  going  to  turn  you  loose  in  my  library." 

A  new  life  from  that  very  moment  had  opened  out  before 
Osgood.  But,  strangely  enough,  the  books  of  travel  he  grew 
most  fond  of  were  not  those  that  described  sunny  lands  in 
southern  seas,  but  those  that  told  of  life  in  the  great  white 
lands  and  oceans  of  ice  around  the  pole.  When  Osgood  was 
about  thirteen  years  of  age  he  probably  knew  more  about 
the  Arctic  regions  than  many  of  the  professors  of  the  Aber- 
deen University. 

Moreover,  he  wanted  to  go  to  sea,  and  to  visit  these 
regions.  But  his  parents  would  not  hear  of  him  going  to 
sea  to  visit  any  regions  whatever,  whether  north  or  south. 

Of  course  the  boy  was  grief-stricken  at  this  determina- 
tion on  their  part,  but  his  fertile  imagination  came  to  his 
relief — to  some  extent.  He  seemed  now  to  love  the  winter 
season  more  even  than  spring  or  summer.  When  skating 
was  to  be  had  he  almost  lived  upon  skates.  He  roamed 
through  the  snow-laden  woods,  and  had  terrible  adventures 
with  great  ice-bears.  When  the  river  was  frozen  along  its 
edges  he  engaged  in  seal-fishing,  and  even  captured  whales. 
His  full-rigged  ship  went  no  more  to  San  Domingo.  She 
was  cleared  for  the  Polar  Ocean,  and  on  her  return  her 
captain  was  invited  to  dinner  in  a  great  snow-cave  beneath 
the  spruce-trees,  and  invited  to  tell  his  story,  which,  of  course, 
teemed  with  wild  adventure  and  hair-breadth  escapes. 

"  1  think,"  said  Mr.  Stronach,  the  minister,  to  Osgood's 
parents  one  day,  "you'll  have  to  let  the  boy  go  to  sea. 
He'll  never  settle  on  shore." 

But  his  parents  were  old-fashioned  and  obdurate.  Instead 
of  ploughing  the  sea  he  should  plough  the  lea,  his  father 
said,  and  instead  of  planting  the  British  standard  on  the 
North  Pole  or  any  other  pole  he  should  plant  kail  in  the 
cabbage  garden.  And  that,  he  added,  was  his  ipse  dixit,  with 
all  due  deference  to  the  minister's  opinions. 

1  Spoon. 


STILL   AMONG  THE   ICE.  161 

That  very  night  Osgood  determined  to  cut  the  Gordian 
knot.  He  would  run  away  to  sea. 

Times  had  altered  since  boys  could  do  that  sort  of  thing; 
but,  of  course,  Osgood  was  not  to  know  that.  Like  a  good 
many  other  little  boys  that  I  have  known,  he  thought  he 
had  only  to  appear  on  the  sandy  sea-beach  just  as  the  last 
boat  was  pulling  off  to  the  ship  lying  in  the  beautiful  bay, 
her  sails  all  loose  and  ready ;  that  the  captain  would  receive 
him  with  open  arms;  that  for  a  time  he  would  be  but  a 
cabin-boy,  then  raised  to  walk  the  quarter-deck  as  a  middy, 
finishing  off  perhaps  with  commanding  a  fine  craft  of  his 
own,  and  marrying  an  admiral's  daughter. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

STILL   AMONG  THE   ICE — A   STRANGE,   WILD   SCHEME. 

OSGOOD  did  run  away  to  sea.  Or  if  he  didn't  run,  he 
at  anyrate  walked. 

He  made  up  a  little  bundle  of  all  he  thought  he  should 
need,  rose  very  early  on  a  dark  and  wintry  February 
morning,  and  started  off.  He  had  a  little  money  which  he 
had  saved  up  from  sixpences  and  pennies  given  him  for 
running  errands,  more  than  would  pay  his  fare  to  Aberdeen. 

He  arrived  there  cold  and  hungry  the  same  afternoon. 
He  knew  that  a  ship  was  about  to  sail  for  the  Arctic  regions, 
commanded  by  Captain  Penny  himself,  an  officer  who  had 
won  some  renown  in  the  search  for  Sir  John  Franklin.  So 
he  got  on  board  the  vessel,  which  was  a  steamer,  and  pre- 
sented himself  before  the  captain. 

This  gentleman,  seeing  the  lad  was  not  a  common  gutter- 
snipe or  street  Arab,  took  him  below. 

"Of  course  you've  run  away,  my  lad?"  he  said. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  let  me  disabuse  your  mind  of  some  of  its  romantic 

(988)  L 


162         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

notions.  Even  then,  if  I  were  willing  to  take  you,  the  law 
would  not  allow  me,  without  the  consent  of  your  parents." 

"But  they  will  never  consent,  sir." 

"  Then  you  cannot  go  to  sea  until  you  are  twenty-one, 
and  by  that  time  you  will  have  altered  your  mind.  Good- 
bye, dear  boy;  I  believe  you  have  pluck  in  you." 

Osgood  went  away,  but  not  heart-broken.  The  ship 
would  sail  next  morning  early.  Osgood  managed  to  slip  on 
board  in  the  dark  and  bustle,  and  hid  himself  forward  in  a 
sail-bunker  in  front  of  the  galley. 

He  fell  asleep,  and  when  he  awoke  he  felt  very  ill.  He 
knew  by  the  silence  and  motion  that  the  ship  was  at  sea. 
How  long  he  lay  there,  half-dead,  he  never  knew.  It  might 
have  been  for  days.  But  sailor  men  came  one  morning  to 
look  for  a  storm-jib,  and  pulled  him  out  with  the  canvas. 

"Hullo,  matie!  here's  a  blessed  stowaway!  Well,  lad,  I 
expect  you've  chosen  the  wrong  craft." 

"No,  I  haven't.     I  want  to  go  to  Greenland." 

"  Well,  you'll  get  there.  Captain  Penny  is  not  going  to 
call  at  Lerwick  this  cruise.  He  is  going  to  have  nothing 
but  Scotch  sailors,  and  it  isn't  likely  he'll  put  in  anywhere 
to  land  the  likes  o'  you." 

"You're  not  a  Scotch  sailor;  I  know  by  your  tongue." 

"  Well,  lad,  don't  be  cheeky.  Come  and  have  some  break- 
fast." 

Scotch  or  English,  this  man  was  very  kind  to  him.  Finally 
he  took  him  to  the  mate,  and  the  mate  took  him  before 
Captain  Penny. 

The  captain  simply  laughed. 

"  Set  him  to  work,"  he  said.  "  Don't  be  hard  on  him 
either." 

"  0,  no,"  said  the  mate. 

Then  he  was  taken  forward. 

"When  we  get  haud  o'  a  stowaway,"  said  the  mate,  "the 
plan  is  to  begin  by  treatin'  him  to  twa  dizen  wi'  a  good 
rope's-en'.  Ye  see,"  he  added,  "the  weather  is  gey  an1  cauld, 
and  that'll  warm  ye." 

Osgood  said  nothing.     He  simply  pulled  off  his  jacket. 

i  Rather. 


STILL  AMONG  THE   ICE.  163 

"Keep  on  your  claes,1  man,"  the  mate  said,  laughing. 
"  I  wadna  thrash  a  little  chap  like  you  to  be  made  skipper 
o'  the  ship." 

"  But,  sir,"  said  Osgood,  "  if  it  is  the  right  way  to  begin, 
never  mind  my  size.  I'm  used  to  bein'  thrashed  every  day 
at  school." 

"  Weel,  we  shall  omit  the  formality  for  ance.  Gang  below 
and  help  the  cook." 

When  Osgood  returned  from  the  Arctic  regions  Captain 
Penny  sent  the  boy  home,  and  with  him  a  letter  to  his 
parents,  and  it  was  probably  this  letter  that  convinced  them 
that  their  boy  was  born  for  a  sailor,  and  that  sailor  he 
would  be. 

Osgood  was  very  happy  now.  Being  fond  of  the  briny 
myself,  I  think  it  is  a  fine  thing  for  a  boy  to  get  to  sea  under 
almost  any  circumstances;  but  when  he  goes  afloat  with  the 
full  consent  of  his  parents  or  guardians,  it  is  a  finer  thing 
still. 

Osgood  sailed  with  Penny  for  three  years.  Then  he 
passed  for  second  mate. 

He  was  a  hard  student,  and  after  serving  for  some  time 
longer  in  other  ships  and  obtaining  his  master-mariner's 
certificate,  he  got  a  command. 

He  was  lucky,  some  said.  True  enough,  but  then  he  was 
smart;  and  I  do  think  myself  that  most  of  us  when  young 
have  luck  on  our  side  if  we  would  only  be  earnest  and  try 
to  deserve  it.  Now  there  is  a  saying  that  I  have  heard  often 
enough  and  also  read  in  books,  to  the  effect  that  the  boy  is 
father  of  the  man.  It  was  so  in  Osgood's  case,  at  all  events. 

"  Joseph,"  said  Osgood  Reynolds  one  day  at  dinner  after 
a  spell  of  silence  not  unusual  with  him,  "I  am  sick  of 
sealing. 

"Now,"  he  added,  "I  don't  mind  so  much  going  after 
the  old  ones,  but  this  slaughter  of  babies  appears  to  me  to 
be  very  tragical  and  murderous.  And,  mind  you,  Joe,  in  all 
my  dreams  of  life  in  the  Arctic  regions,  when  I  was  a  little 
chap  in  the  frozen  woods  or  along  the  ice-bound  river,  or 

i  Clothes. 


164         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

setting  out  in  search  of  the  North-west  Passage  round  the 
Hill  of  Bourtrie,  I  never  thought  of  this  grim  and  murder- 
ous work.  And  even  yet  I'd  like  to  turn  explorer." 

"  I  should  think,  sir,"  replied  Joseph,  "  that  any  exploring 
ship  would  be  glad  of  your  services.  And  if  you  do  go,  sir, 
try  to  think  of  poor  Joe  here.  I'd  go  as  steward,  or  even 
loblolly-boy  to  your  doctor." 

"0,"  cried  Rudland  Syme,  "the  glamour  of  the  great 
white  land  has  been  all  .over  me  for  years,  and  I'll  never  be 
able  to  shake  it  off.  If  you  do  go  exploring,  take  me." 

"  And  me,"  said  Olaf. 

"  And  me,"  said  Colin. 

"And  me,"  nodded  Sigurd. 

The  Lapp  lad  was  standing  behind  the  captain's  chair 
with  a  dish  of  potatoes  in  his  hand.  He  now  waited  at 
table  regularly. 

"  And  me  too,"  he  said. 

Svolto  had  not  very  much  English — hardly  enough, 
indeed,  to  bless  himself  with — but  he  managed  to  say  that. 

Captain  Reynolds  laughed. 

"  I'd  gladly  go  exploring,"  he  said,  "  and  I'd  be  pleased 
to  take  you  all,  boys;  but  as  I  shall  likely  go  in  a  subordinate 
position  myself,  I  don't  quite  see  how  it  can  be  managed. 
But,"  he  added,  "  I'm  going  to  think  it  out." 

The  Bladder-nose,  by  dint  of  hard  work  and  skill,  had 
managed  to  secure  several  thousand  skins.  Moreover,  Olaf 
had  killed  five  bears — but  he  did  not  find  the  bear, — so  that 
Reynolds  might  now  have  borne  up  for  home,  and  his  owners 
would  have  given  him  a  hearty  welcome.  But  one  day  seals 
were  sighted  far  in  through  the  western  ice,  and  the  pieces 
being  loose  the  ship  was  rove  in  through  towards  them. 
As  the  wind  blew  from  the  south-east,  the  feat  was  easily 
accomplished. 

The  sun  shone  very  brightly.  The  sun  shone  almost  too 
brightly,  thought  Sigurd,  who  was  an  older  Arctic  hand  than 
even  the  captain.  A  cold-looking  sun  it  was,  almost  rayless 
at  midnight,  just  a  disc  of  polished  silver,  and  one  could  even 
count  the  very  spots  on  it  with  the  naked  eye. 

The  seals  lay  well,  so  that  two  and  sometimes  even  three 


STILL  AMONG   THE   ICE.  165 

were  killed  on  each  snow-clad  floe.  The  hunting  or  seal- 
stalking  was  so  exciting  that  neither  captain,  gunners,  or  crew 
thought  about  anything  else.  The  sportsmen  just  went  on 
and  on  after  their  quarry  for  four-and-twenty  hours,  without, 
of  course,  a  wink  of  sleep,  and  very  little  food;  and  the  men 
kept  dragging  the  skins  towards  the  ship,  so  that  there  was 
a  broad,  brown  blood-track  all  the  way  'twixt  the  vessel 
and  the  distant  sealers,  who  were  spread  out  like  skirmishers 
in  a  battle-field.  Like  skirmishers,  too,  they  took  advantage 
of  every  bit  of  cover  afforded  them  by  hummocks  or  blocks 
of  loose  ice. 

I  suppose  it  is  because  there  is  something  of  the  savage 
in  all  our  natures,  that  shooting  big  game  is  so  exciting  and 
pleasant  to  us  all.  Olaf,  for  example,  was  the  happiest  of 
the  happy,  because  he  succeeded  in  killing  another  bear. 
He  followed  one  more,  far  away  from  the  sealers.  In  about 
twenty  minutes'  time,  however,  he  was  seen  hastening  back, 
vaulting  from  piece  to  piece  of  ice,  and  followed  by  the 
infuriated  Bruin. 

His  gun  had  burst.  Knowing  that  something  very  unusual 
must  be  the  matter,  Colin  hastened  to  meet  him.  Only  just 
in  time,  for  the  bear  had  overtaken  Olaf,  and  was  crouching 
for  a  spring.  In  haste  Colin  fired.  Shoot  in  haste  and  re- 
pent at  leisure!  Colin  wounded  the  bear,  that  was  all;  and 
the  monster  made  good  his  escape. 

The  seals  were  all  gone  at  last,  dead  or  below,  and  the 
last  skin  had  been  dragged  to  the  ship's  side.  Yes,  but  the 
sun  had  been  all  too  bright.  And  now  the  Bladder-nose  was 
locked  up  in  the  arms  of  King  Frost. 

Captain  Reynolds  laughed,  that  was  all.  He  was  a  man 
that  worry  would  never  kill,  because  he  never  went  half-way 
to  meet  it,  and  took  it  easy  when  it  did  come. 

"Joseph,"  he  said,  "what  do  you  think  of  this1?" 

Joseph  laughed  too. 

"I'll  tell  you,  sir,  what  I  do  think.  I  think  that  it  serves 
us  right  for  imprisoning  the  poor  Pelican" 

"Just  my  thoughts  to  a  *t',  Joe;  but  we  must  make  the 
best  of  it." 


166         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

For  three  long,  dreary  weeks  the  Bladder-nose  lay  frozen 
up  in  that  ice-pack. 

So  long  as  the  sealing  continued,  and  for  a  whole  week 
after,  there  were  birds  on  the  pack  by  thousands.  Bears  also 
came  to  visit  the  field  of  slaughter,  and  also  a  few  blue  foxes 
— the  Arctic  species  that  turns  quite  white  in  winter.  But 
when  the  "crangs",  as  Scotch  sailors  call  the  carcasses,  were 
picked  bare,  birds  and  beasts  all  deserted  the  pack,  and  the 
ship  was  left  amidst  a  silence  so  impressive  as  to  be  posi- 
tively painful. 

They  were,  at  first,  not  more  than  five  miles  from  the  dark 
blue  open  water,  but  stream  after  stream  of  heavy  ice  had 
come  with  the  current  from  the  east  and  been  glued  to  the 
main  pack,  so  that  in  ten  days'  time  no  water  could  be  seen 
even  from  the  mast-head. 

Under  such  circumstances  as  these  a  vessel  might  remain 
in  an  ice  pack  for  a  year  or  more,  until,  all  provisions  being 
exhausted,  the  crew  should  one  by  one  droop  and  die. 

But  one  thing  there  was  that  prevented  the  possibility  of 
such  a  calamity,  namely,  the  gradual  floating  or  shifting  of 
the  whole  pack  or  "  country "  towards  the  south  and  the 
west. 

Anxiously  enough,  day  after  day,  did  Joseph  and  Captain 
Reynolds  take  sights  at  the  sun  at  noon,  with  the  view  of 
determining  their  whereabouts.  They  found  that  the  ice  did 
not  drift  the  same  distance  every  day,  nor  was  the  direction 
always  quite  the  same. 

Well,  there  was  danger  certainly,  for  at  times  the  vessel 
got  what  is  called  in  the  "nips".  This  happened  when  a 
heavy  swell  rolled  in  from  the  east.  The  sight  was  then 
magnificent  in  the  extreme,  albeit  it  was  terrible.  No 
water  was  anywhere  visible,  and  yet  the  pack  was  all  one 
mass  of  heaving,  rolling  waves  of  ice,  while  the  noise 
emitted  by  the  grinding  together  of  the  green  sides  of  the 
bergs  was  indescribable. 

Loud  reports  were  constant — here,  there,  and  everywhere; 
but  the  principal  noises  could  only  be  compared  to  the 
sound  made  by  wild  beasts,  especially  if  we  could  imagine 
those  wild  beasts  to  be  in  mortal  agony. 


A  STRANGE,   WILD   SCHEME.  167 

During  the  "nips"  the  ship  would  be  raised  as  to  her 
bows,  or  it  might  be  her  stern,  many  feet  out  of  the  water, 
and  if  she  had  not  been  a  craft  of  unusual  strength  and 
good  formation  she  would  have  collapsed  like  a  crushed  egg- 
shell, and  gone  down  when  the  pressure  was  at  length 
removed. 

These  were  times  of  great  anxiety  to  all  on  board,  and 
the  danger  of  foundering  was  at  times  so  great,  that  all 
preparations  were  made  for  a  bivouac  upon  the  ice,  stores 
and  clothing  landed,  and  even  the  sails  to  form  tents  and 
skins  for  sleeping-bags.  Times  like  these,  indeed,  are 
enough  to  turn  the  hair  of  the  Arctic  voyager  white  in  a 
single  night. 

But  nothing  save  happiness  and  jollity  reigned  either  aft, 
forward,  or  between  decks  when  there  was  no  motion  in 
the  ice.  The  men  played  games,  too,  on  the  ice  during  the 
long  day;  for  I  may  mention  that  the  vessel  had  now 
drifted  so  far  south,  and  the  season  was  so  well  advanced, 
that  there  was  a  brief  night  between  eleven  o'clock  and  one. 

Concerts  were  got  up  on  board,  and  every  man  contributed 
his  quota  to  the  general  entertainment  if  he  had  anything  to 
sing  or  anything  to  say. 

The  evening  hours  just  after  supper  were  certainly  the 
cosiest  in  the  cabin  or  saloon.  The  captain  always  sat  in 
his  big  arm-chair  with  the  ship's  cat  on  his  knee.  Colin  and 
Olaf  lay  in  front  of  the  fire  on  a  bearskin  rug,  while  the 
doctor  and  the  two  mates  were  not  far  away. 

"Well,"  said  Reynolds  one  day,  "I  don't  think,  boys,  it 
would  be  impossible  to  find  the  pole,  even  to  get  right  across 
it,  and  come  out  alive  at  the  other  side." 

"  Your  ambition  is  great,  sir,"  said  Joseph. 

"Captain  Reynolds,"  said  Rudland  Syme,  "I  know  of  one 
way  in  which  you  could  surmount  all  difficulties  and  get  easily 
across  the  Pole." 

"I  don't  expect  much  sense  out  of  your  noddle,  doctor, 
but  tell  us  what  you  mean." 

"Cross  it,"  said  Rudland,  "in  imagination,  Captain;  and 
you  don't  need  to  get  out  of  your  chair  to  do  rfc,  or  put  the 
ship's  cat  to  the  slightest  inconvenience." 


168         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"Joseph,"  said  Captain  Reynolds,  "we  are  not  a  long 
way  from  the  eastern  shores  of  Greenland.  Now  I  have 
a  scheme  for  crossing  on  snow-shoes  right  over  to  the  western 
shores  on  the  great  inland  glaciers." 

"What!"  cried  Olaf  delightedly.     "Are  you  a  skiloberF 

"  A  she-lover  ?"  said  Reynolds  laughing.  "  Rather !  Why, 
I'm  going  to  be  married  when  I  get  home." 

"0,  I  don't  mean  that;  skis  are  long,  narrow  snow- 
shoes,  and  you  can  do  ten  miles  an  hour  with  them." 

"  Tell  us  all  about  them,"  said  Reynolds;  "  I  referred  to 
the  ordinary  Indian  snow-shoe." 

"Well,  Colin  talks  better  English  than  I;  he  can  tell  you 
all  about  our  going  to  the  north  of  Norway  on  skier,  and 
all  our  strange  and  wonderful  adventures." 

"0!"  cried  the  captain,  "this  must  be  a  story  in  many 
chapters.  Go  on,  Colin;  we'll  have  the  first  chapter  from 
you." 

"No,"  said  Colin,  "we  will  talk  time  about  just  as  it 
occurs  to  us,  for  no  doubt  we  can  remind  each  other  thus  of 
many  incidents  that,  singly,  one  or  other  of  us  would  for- 
get." 

And  it  was  in  this  way  that  they  related  to  Captain  Rey- 
nolds and  to  Joseph,  chapter  after  chapter  of  the  story  of 
their  wild  winter  adventures  in  Norseland.  They  did  not 
finish  in  one  night;  indeed  it  took  them  three.  It  was  too 
good  a  story,  Reynolds  said,  to  hurry  over,  and  Joseph  quite 
agreed  with  him. 

For  some  time  after  the  boys  had  finished  their  story  the 
captain  sat  smoking  his  cigar,  stroking  the  ship's  cat,  and 
thinking.  Then  he  said  to  Olaf: 

"Does  it  take  one  long  to  acquire  the  art  of  she — what 
do  you  call  it?" 

"Sktiobning." 

"  SheeloV.ag.     Does  it1?" 

"No,  not  to  be  moderately  expert.  Colin  here  learned 
in  a  very  short  time." 

"Joseph,"  he  said,  "you  and  I  must  be  taught." 

"Colin  and  I  have  two  pairs  each  with  us,"  said  Olaf. 
"Well,  there  is  a  nice  bit  of  bay  ice  about  a  mile  to  the 


A  STRANGE,   WILD   SCHEME.  169 

eastward  here.  Suppose  we  give  you  lesson  No.  1  to- 
morrow, gentlemen?" 

And  so  it  was  agreed. 

Joseph  and  Captain  Reynolds  both  got  on  the  skier,  and 
though  each  of  them  had  the  usual  mishaps,  still  they  made 
very  fair  progress,  especially  the  captain;  so  much  so,  in- 
deed, that  Olaf  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  with  a  few 
months'  practice  both  would  be  reasonably  expert. 

One  day  something  like  a  cloud  appeared  upon  the 
western  horizon.  But  this  something,  which  was  at  first 
but  a  mere  mist,  gray  and  indistinct,  resolved  itself  into 
substantiality.  For  when  the  sun  went  down  behind  it  in 
the  north-west  it  was  much  darker,  and  never  a  ray  of  light 
traversed  it.  The  something  turned  out  to  be  land ! 

A  day  or  two  after  this  a  lane  of  water  opened  up  rather 
suddenly  betwixt  the  skilobning  party  and  the  ship.  This 
lane  grew,  and  grew,  and  grew  till  it  was  almost  a  lake. 

A  boat  was  quickly  lowered,  and  as  speedily  as  possible 
dragged  over  the  rugged  ice  towards  the  water.  None  too 
soon.  For  a  heavy,  dark  mist  rolled  up  from  the  south, 
and  before  they  again  reached  the  ice  with  the  rescued 
party  and  began  making  their  way  towards  the  Bladder-nose, 
the  whole  "country"  was  enveloped  in  a  fog  so  dense  that  it 
was  difficult  indeed  to  make  much  progress. 

Luckily  both  Joseph  and  Captain  Reynolds  carried  pocket- 
compasses,  else  it  might  have  fared  but  badly  with  all  hands, 
for  a  swell  had  come  in  from  the  south  after  the  fog,  and 
the  great  bergs  began  to  grind  together  with  such  a  noise 
and  shrieking,  that  the  fog-horns  blown  on  board  of  the  ship 
could  not  be  heard. 

These  dense  fogs  that  envelope  the  ice-fields  about  the 
beginning  of  June  constitute  a  very  real  source  of  danger 
to  men  engaged  in  stalking  old  seals.  However,  in  this  case, 
all  got  safely  on  board. 

Next  day  the  fog  lifted,  and  the  ice  was  now  beginning 
to  open.  The  lane  or  lake  of  water  trended  north  and 
south,  or  rather  north-east  and  south-west. 

The  saws  were  now  got  out,  and  after  four-and-twenty 


170         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

hours  of  the  very  hardest  of  work  the  men  succeeded  in 
cutting  a  canal  from  the  ship  to  the  water.  This  was  a 
piece  of  engineering  for  which  the  captain  and  crew  of  the 
Bladder-nose  might  well  have  given  themselves  credit,  but 
they  thought  little  of  it. 

"  Yes,  steward;  splice  the  main-brace!"  said  the  captain. 

And  the  main -brace  was  spliced  twice  during  the  per- 
formance of  the  work;  but  it  is  satisfactory  to  say  that 
many  of  the  men  preferred  coffee  to  rum. 

Once  free  of  the  ice,  sail  was  set,  and  the  Bladder-nose 
was  slowly  worked  southward  and  west,  though,  the  wind 
being  ahead,  not  very  much  progress  was  made. 

But  the  rugged  shores  of  Greenland  grew  still  more  dis- 
tinct, and  still  more  distinct  in  his  mind  grew  the  determina- 
tion of  brave  Captain  Reynolds  to  cross  from  east  to  west 
the  country  that  now  lay  before  him,  if,  as  he  told  Joseph, 
he  could  but  get  men  in  Britain  to  fit  him  out. 

They  at  last  succeeded  in  forcing  their  way  through  a 
barrier  of  heavy  ice  that  lay  between  them  and  the  open 
ocean.  But  for  most  of  the  way  they  had  to  sail  without 
their  rudder,  which  had  been  unshipped  to  save  its  being 
dashed  to  pieces  by  the  bergs  around  them. 

It  was  a  delightful  sensation  for  all  on  board  to  find  them- 
selves out,  once  more,  on  the  free,  broad  bosom  of  the  ocean, 
after  the  dangers  they  had  come  through.  In  order  to  have 
a  look  at  the  land — they  were  now  in  north  latitude  about 
66° — Captain  Reynolds  sailed  still  farther  to  the  westward. 

Strangely  enough  they  found  seals  even  here,  resting  on 
the  outlying  points  of  ice.  But  Olaf  found  no  more  bears, 
so  his  revenge  remained  ungratified,  much  to  his  sorrow. 
The  reader  must  not  imagine  that  I  myself  consider  this 
longing  to  revenge  his  father's  death  by  slaying  every  bear 
he  came  across  was  dignified,  but  at  the  same  time  it  was 
natural  enough. 

And  now,  as  Reynolds  looked  on  that  savage,  ice-bound 
coast  of  Greenland,  he  began  almost  to  fear  that  his  scheme 
for  scaling  the  mountain-sides,  reaching  the  inland  glaciers, 
and  striking  across  to  the  west  coast  was  almost  chimerical. 

He  sighed  as  he  looked  towards  the  hills.     Colin  was 


THE  MEN  SUCCEEDED  IN  CUTTING  A  CANAL  FROM  THE  SHIP 
TO  THE  WATER." 


OUR  WOULD-BE  EXPLORER  IS   SAID   TO   BE  MAD.      171 

standing   near  him  on   the  quarter-deck,  and   heard   the 


"I  can  tell  what  you  are  thinking  about,"  said  Colin. 
"  You  are  thinking  that  your  scheme  is  impossible." 

"  Something  like  that,  I  admit.  Only,  you  know,  Colin, 
one  never  knows  what  one  can  do  till  one  tries." 

"  My  uncle's  motto  is  a  good  one,  I  believe,  sir." 

"And  that  is f' 

"Whatever  a  man  dares  he  can  do." 

"  A  thousand  thanks !  I've  heard  the  line  before,  I  think, 
in  some  old  song." 

"Yes." 

"Well,  Colin  M'lvor,  we  will  dare.  Shake  hands,  lad. 
And,"  he  added,  "  we— will— do." 


CHAPTEE  V. 

OUR   WOULD-BE  EXPLORER  IS   SAID   TO   BE  MAD — FINDS 
A   FRIEND   AT   LAST. 

THE  Bladder-nose  bore  up  for  home,  and  in  due  time  arrived 
safe  and  sound  at  Fraserburgh.  She  had  not  lost  a 
single  man,  either  through  accident  or  from  sickness,  a  fact 
for  which  Rudland  Syme  took  no  small  credit  to  himself, 
although  it  might  have  been  questioned  whether  it  depended 
on  his  skill  in  medicine  and  surgery. 

Now,  after  the  usual  rejoicings  had  taken  place,  that 
always  follow  the  arrival  of  any  ship  of  the  fleet  at  either 
Peterhead  or  Fraserburgh,  Captain  Keynolds  was  one  even- 
ing asked,  while  at  dinner,  whether  or  not  he  had  heard 
anything  of  Captain  Smart  and  his  ship  Pelican,  "because," 
said  his  interrogator,  "  she  has  been  reported  lost  with  all 
hands." 

Thus,  indeed,  did  the  captain  of  the  Bladder-nose  receive  a 
shock.  For  he  alone  was  accountable  for  the  catastrophe,  if 
catastrophe  it  should  turn  out  to  be.  He  told  the  story, 


172         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

however,  of  Smart's  having  scared  away  the  seals,  and  of  his 
conduct  in  general,  down  even  to  the  time  he  had  left  him 
frozen  in.  The  general  verdict  upon  Mr.  Smart  that  night 
was  "serve  him  right". 

Nevertheless,  Reynolds'  mind  was  greatly  relieved  when  a 
few  days  afterwards  the  Pelican  herself  was  seen  out  at  sea, 
making  signals  for  a  pilot.  And  a  single  glance  at  her  was 
enough  to  show  the  onlookers  that  she  was  a  "clean  ship"; 
that  is,  that  she  had  few,  if  any,  seals  on  board.  When  the 
whole  story  got  noised  about,  there  was  a  good  deal  of  laugh- 
ing at  Smart's  expense,  and  as  soon  as  this  bold  skipper  got 
his  ship  paid  off,  he  deemed  it  best  to  go  south  for  a  summer 
holiday. 

The  Bladder-nose  had  made  a  good  voyage,  and  the  owners 
were  genuinely  glad  to  see  her  captain.  He  had  worked 
well,  they  told  him;  and  as  for  the  bumper-ship,  why,  they 
were  willing  to  wait  for  that  till  next  season. 

Of  course,  this  was  equivalent  to  wishing  Reynolds  to 
continue  in  command  of  the  Bladder-nose.  He  did  not  say 
that  he  would  not,  just  then,  for  he  had  not  as  yet  made  up 
his  mind  concerning  the  crossing  of  Greenland. 

But  an  event  was  soon  to  take  place,  and  did  soon  take 
place,  that  for  a  time  drove  ambition  itself  out  of  Reynolds' 
mind.  For  just  a  month  after  his  return  to  Scotland  he  led 
to  the  altar  the  daughter  of  a  wealthy  laird,  who  resided  not 
a  hundred  miles  from  Peterhead.  To  this  young  lady,  who 
was  allowed  to  be  very  beautiful,  even  by  the  old  maids  of 
the  parish  in  which  she  lived,  Reynolds  was  a  real  hero,  and 
no  doubt  she  loved  him  much. 

Our  two  young  heroes,  with  Joseph,  Sigurd,  and  even 
Svolto,  were  at  the  wedding,  and  at  the  dinner  that  fol- 
lowed Reynolds  took  the  opportunity  of  broaching  the  sub- 
ject of  his  pet  ambition. 

It  was  the  first  time  his  bride  had  heard  of  it,  and  she 
trembled  to  think  how  soon  she  might  lose  her  husband, 
and  that,  possibly,  for  ever ;  for  even  to  her  mind  the  scheme 
seemed  all  too  adventurous,  and  fraught  with  dangers  untold 
and  unknown. 

It  was  the  first  his  father-in-law  had  heard  of  it.    He  was  a 


OUR   WOULD-BE   EXPLORER   IS   SAID   TO   BE   MAD.      173 

steady-going  Scottish  laird  of  the  old  school,  and  as  Reynolds 
spoke  of  his  plans  for  crossing  Greenland,  the  old  man  put  on 
his  big  horn-rimmed  glasses  and  narrowly  surveyed  him  with 
the  look  of  one  who  would  say:  "  Are  you  mad,  sir1?" 

And  this  was  a  question  that,  after  the  happy  couple  had 
left  to  spend  their  honeymoon  by  the  shores  of  the  blue 
Levant,  was  freely  discussed  among  those  left  behind  at  the 
Laird's  house. 

"Heaven  forbid  it  should  turn  out  to  be  so!"  said  one 
Job's  comforter  to  the  father-in-law;  "but  indeed,  sir,  it 
appears  to  me  and  to  several  of  my  neighbours  here  that 
your  daughter's  husband  is  a  wee  bittock  off  his  head." 

"Ah,  weel,"  said  a  canny  farmer,  "mairrage  may  work 
wonders  for  the  lad.  Suspend  your  judgment,  ma  freens, 
till  he  comes  hame  again." 

The  first  speaker  turned  to  Colin  and  Olaf. 

"Did  you  boys  notice  anything  peculiar  in  your  skipper's 
behaviour  while  at  seal" 

Now  Olaf  felt  somewhat  nettled  at  being  called  a  boy  so 
bluntly,  so  he  made  reply: 

"  To  begin  with,  sir,  let  me  tell  you  that  I  am  not  a  boy. 
Let  me  add  that  my  captain  is  wiser  far  than  my  present 
questioner,  and  that  his  scheme  for  crossing  Greenland  is 
eminently  practicable." 

"Hoity-toity!  don't  lose  your  temper,  young  gentleman; 
I  meant  no  offence." 

"  I  consider  that  what  my  friend  Olaf  says,"  added  Colin, 
"is  quite  correct;  and  if  Captain  Reynolds  receives  the  pe- 
cuniary and  scientific  support  he  merits,  the  crossing  of 
Greenland  by  the  high  inland  glaciers  will  be  a  fait  accompli 
before  two  years  are  over." 

No  more  was  said,  but  soon  after,  in  a  well-known  maga- 
zine, there  appeared  a  long  paper  from  Reynolds'  pen. 

Condensed  and  epitomized  it  ran  somewhat  as  follows: — 
"  I  have  long  considered  that  results  beneficial  to  science 
might  accrue  from  a  well-organized  and  successful  expedi- 
tion across  Greenland  from  shore  to  shore.  I  do  not 
attempt  to  minimize  the  dangers  and  difficulties  of  my 
plan,  although  I  consider  it  the  most  feasible  of  any  that 


174         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

has  yet  been  proposed;  nor  do  I  forget  that  all  expeditions 
into  the  interior  of  this  country  have  hitherto  failed,  and 
been  to  a  great  extent  barren  of  results. 

"  My  own  method  of  crossing  the  terra  incognita  shall  be 
briefly  as  follows:  I  intend,  please  God,  to  leave  Scotland 
or  Norway,  about  the  middle  of  May  on  board  of  a  sealer, 
and  to  sail  for  the  eastern  shores  of  Greenland,  landing  my 
little  expedition  thereon  at  a  point  as  far  north  as  I  can 
possibly  reach. 

"There  is  a  probability,  however,  that  owing  to  the  state  of 
the  ice  the  vessel  may  not  be  able  to  reach  the  coast,  but  she 
must  be  worked  in  towards  the  land  as  far  as  is  consonant 
with  her  safety.  I  and  my  men  will  then  disembark  upon 
the  ice  and  get  on  shore  as  best  we  can. 

"  There  is,  however,  another  contingency  to  be  provided 
for,  namely  this,  we  may  find  open  water  between  the 
ice-pack  and  the  shore.  This  renders  it  necessary  that  we 
should  have  a  boat.  I  have  my  plans  for  providing  a  light 
craft  that  I  and  my  friends  can  easily  drag  across  the 
ice. 

"  Although  I  hope  to  land  to  the  northward  of  Cape  Dan, 
an  unexplored  region,  much  must  be  left  to  chance,  or,  I 
should  rather  say,  to  that  good  Providence  that  has  never 
yet  deserted  me. 

"Having  landed,  we  shall  make  observations  and  take 
notes  of  the  habits  of  life  of  the  heathen  Eskimo,  a  colony 
of  whom  we  expect  to  find  on  the  coast.  We  shall  then 
climb  the  bare  rocks  as  high  as  possible,  and  thus  get  clear 
of  the  greatest  dangers  of  the  glaciers. 

"  Having  reached  the  highest  point,  we  will  endeavour  to 
make  straight  for  Christianshaab,  far  north  in  the  Bay  of 
Disko.  This  may  be  considered  a  high  latitude  thus  to 
choose,  but  we  expect  to  find  the  snow  far  easier  for  sledges 
and  snow-shoes  in  the  north  than  it  can  possibly  be  farther 
south. 

"We  shall  have  the  Norwegian  snow-shoes — or  ( skier'— 
as  well  as  the  Canadian,  and  our  sledges  will  be  of  a  kind 
which  my  experience  of  Arctic  regions  tells  me,  will  be  best 
fitted  to  drag  across  the  snow." 


FINDS   A  FRIEND   AT   LAST.  175 

There  was  much  more  of  Keynolds'  paper,  with  which  I 
have  no  occasion  to  bother  the  reader;  but  having  now 
learned  a  little  of  what  this  brave  and  daring  young  man's 
plans  were,  we  will  presently  see  how  far  he  was  able  to 
follow  them. 

It  was  only  natural  to  suppose  that  this  article  from  the 
pen  of  so  well-known  a  Greenland  voyager,  would  create 
some  excitement  in  the  scientific  world.  Eeynolds  was 
already  known  by  his  writings  in  various  magazines  con- 
nected with  natural  history,  for  he  had  written  a  consider- 
able number  of  papers  on  Arctic  birds  and  beasts,  as  well  as 
on  the  flora  of  Davis  Straits  and  the  land  lying  farther  north 
along  the  shores  of  western  Greenland. 

His  scheme,  however,  was  ruthlessly  criticized  and  cut 
to  pieces.  No  one  said  in  so  many  words  that  the  man 
was  mad,  but  they  did  not  hesitate  to  imply  that  he  was  a 
headstrong  fool.  For  the  inland  ice  of  Greenland  was  at  this 
time  looked  upon  even  by  many  eminent  men  with  a  kind 
of  superstitious  dread. 

"  Let  us,  for  the  sake  of  hypothesis,"  wrote  one  learned 
man  in  a  certain  magazine,  "imagine  that  this  foolhardy 
Keynolds  has  succeeded  in  reaching  the  shores  of  eastern 
Greenland,  how  will  he  ever  be  able  to  reach  the  real  flat 
expanse  of  inland  ice?  That  is,  how  will  he  manage  to 
pass  the  outside  edge  thereof,  where  rise  through  the  great 
ice-mantle,  peaks  above  peaks,  these  peaks,  in  all  proba- 
bility, presenting  at  every  point  an  impenetrable  barrier. 

"He  proposes,"  this  paper  went  on,  "to  scale  the  high 
mountains  of  the  east  coast,  and  from  their  summits  to  step 
upon  the  expanse  of  ice  which  is  dammed  up  against  them, 
a  proposal  that  betrays  his  absolute  ignorance  of  the  true 
conditions  of  the  country." 

But  this  article  was  really  a  moderate  criticism  compared 
with  some,  and  many  of  them  had  evidently  been  written 
by  men  who  had  probably  never  been  a  single  mile  at  sea, 
even  in  a  fishing-boat. 

When  Eeynolds  and  his  bonnie  bride  returned  from  the 
Mediterranean,  they  determined  to  reside  for  some  time  in 


176          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

London,  and  see  the  sights — give  themselves  up  to  pleasure 
and  gaiety,  in  fact. 

It  was  now  September,  and  Reynolds'  article  had  been 
read,  and  criticized,  and  cut  to  pieces  months  ago.  Never- 
theless, the  brave  young  fellow  was  visited  at  his  hotel  by 
many  members  of  learned  societies,  most  of  whom,  however, 
tried  hard  to  reason  him  out  of  his  scheme,  which  some  de- 
clared was  absurd  in  the  extreme,  and  all  condemned  as 
altogether  too  risky. 

Their  good  advice,  as  they  were  vain  enough  to  call  it, 
was  wasted  on  Reynolds.  He  listened  politely,  attentively 
even,  but  made  not  the  slightest  comment.  Then  he  quietly 
turned  the  conversation  to  the  weather,  the  last  bill  in  par- 
liament, or  the  very  latest  mysterious  tragedy.  No  wonder 
these  savants  considered  this  bold  master-mariner  a  very  un- 
satisfactory, not  to  say  refractory,  subject  to  deal  with. 

After  they  were  gone,  Reynolds  would  laugh  heartily  over 
the  interview,  but  his  young  wife  looked  very  sad. 

"  Don't  you  think,"  she  sometimes  said,  "  that  these  good 
people  are  right,  and  that  your  intended  expedition  will  be 
a  very  dangerous  one?" 

"  I  am  not  going  to  hide  from  you,  dear  wife  mine,  that 
it  contains  an  element  of  danger,  and  though  this  very  fact 
might  commend  it  to  a  hot-headed  boy,  I  am  too  old  for 
such  a  sentiment.  The  danger  I  shall  face ;  and  shall  do  so, 
I  trust,  in  a  quiet,  cool-headed,  serious  way  which  will  enable 
me  to  overcome  it.  Cheer  up,  darling.  I'm  going  away 
next  summer,  it  is  true,  but  it  is  also  true  that  I  shall  come 
back  safe  and  sound." 

Her  only  answer  was  a  sigh. 

"A  card  for  you,  sir,"  said  the  bustling  little  landlady, 
presenting  the  salver. 

"  Lord  Daybreak !"  said  Reynolds.  "  Show  the  gentleman 
in,  madam.  Another  savant,  I  suppose,"  he  added,  turn- 
ing to  his  wife;  "but  it  is  a  cheerful  kind  of  a  name — Lord 
Daybreak." 

And  a  cheerful-looking  gentleman  was  now  admitted. 
Though  older  than  Reynolds,  he  looked  as  hard  as  steel. 
He  was  a  savant,  certainly,  but  one  of  a  different  stamp 


FINDS  A  FRIEND  AT  LAST.  177 

from  most  of  the  others.  He  had  travelled  much  in  Iceland 
and  Norway,  had  visited  North  Cape,  and  had  cruised  a 
good  deal  among  the  ice  in  his  own  yacht. 

After  he  had  talked  long  enough  to  completely  ingratiate 
himself  with  not  only  Eeynolds  but  his  wife,  he  turned  to 
the  former  and  said: 

"  I  am  now  going  to  come  straight  to  the  point,  if  you 
promise  not  to  be  angry?" 

"You  have  made  me  so  happy,  Lord  Daybreak,  that  I 
couldn't  be  angry  whatever  you  said." 

"Have  you  cash  enough  for  your  expedition?" 

"No,  that  is  the  drawback;  but  I  hope — 

"  Fiddlesticks !  Hope  is  good  enough  in  its  way,  but  it 
won't  sail  a  ship  to  Greenland  east.  Will  you  oblige  me 
by  permitting  me  to  pay  the  x's?" 

"  I  hardly  know  what  to  say." 

"  Then  don't  say  it.     I  won't  take  a  refusal. 

"Furthermore,  if  you  will  allow  me,  I  shall  take  you  to 
the  coast." 

"You!     In  a  yacht?" 

"She  is  a  yacht;  but  such  a  yacht!  I've  done  a  deal  of 
ice-work  with  her,  and  she  is  fortified  quite  as  strongly  as 
any  sealer  or  whaler  that  ever  sailed  the  northern  sea. 
Now,  I'm  off;  you  will  see  a  deal  of  me  'twixt  now  and 
May,  so  let  us  keep  in  touch." 

The  winter  that  followed  was  a  hard  and  a  snowy  one  in 
the  Highlands  of  Scotland.  But  everything  was  lightsome 
and  cheerful  enough  at  the  house  of  Colin's  uncle.  Grant 
M'lvor  was  a  man  that  loved  adventure.  In  his  veins  ran  the 
best  Celtic  blood  in  the  kingdom,  and  though  now  too  old 
to  travel  much  himself,  he  dearly  loved  to  read  about 
exploration,  and  the  deeds  and  wanderings  of  daring  men  in 
far-off  lands.  So  he  would  have  been  the  last  to  have  said 
a  word  against  Colin's  journey,  the  madcap  expedition,  as  it 
had  come  to  be  called  by  ignorant  people,  who  discussed  it 
over  the  walnuts  and  the  wine. 

The  Laird  also  loved  good  company,  and  this  winter  he 
had  issued  a  kind  of  general  invitation  to  all  those  who 

(988)  M 


178         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

were  to  join  Reynolds  in  his  attempt  to  cross  Greenland. 
They  were  told  that  they  could  go  and  come  as  they  pleased, 
but  that  the  oftener  they  came  and  the  longer  they  stayed, 
the  happier  he  and  Mrs.  M'lvor  would  be. 

Every  room  in  the  house  was  aired  and  warmed  by  fires 
that  kept  King  Frost  at  bay,  so  the  great  old  place  looked 
exceedingly  comfortable,  especially  when  the  red  light  from 
the  dining-room  or  drawing-room  shone  across  the  snow-clad 
lawns  of  an  evening. 

Not  only  Captain  Junk — that  is,  our  Uncle  Tom,  you 
know — but  Miss  Dewar  herself  were  among  the  invited 
guests,  and  not  only  Miss  Dewar,  but  Caesar,  the  splendid 
Newfoundland;  and  he,  with  a  spirited,  little,  daft-looking 
Scotch  terrier  friend  of  his — Keltie,  to  wit — were  constantly 
together. 

Reynolds  and  his  wife  were  told  that,  to  a  very  large 
extent,  they  must  consider  themselves  prisoners  here  all  the 
winter  long,  until  the  buds  came  on  the  trees  and  the  birds 
began  to  sing. 

In  the  autumn,  while  Reynolds  was  still  in  the  south, 
Colin  and  Olaf,  after  staying  some  weeks  by  Loch  Ness  with 
Mrs.  Ranna,  got  out  the  Viking,  and  with  their  captain, 
Sigurd,  and  all  their  crew,  Svolto  the  Lapp,  they  took  a 
cruise  to  Norway.  They  entered  many  of  the  fjords  and 
visited  many  old  friends,  and  staying  for  some  days  at  the 
home  of  their  former  acquaintance  Kristiansen,  the  hunter 
and  naturalist.  They  brought  back  with  them  quite  a  cargo 
of  skier. 

When  the  snow  fell  at  last,  and  it  came  on  this  winter 
very  early  in  November,  hardly  a  day  passed  that  Reynolds 
and  Joseph  did  not  don  their  skier  and  take  lessons  in 
skilobning  from  Olaf  or  Sigurd,  so  that  in  time  they  both 
became  very  expert  indeed. 

Snow  lay  all  round  Aberdeen  this  season  as  well  as  up 
in  the  Highlands,  so  that  Rudland  Syme,  who  was  prose- 
cuting his  studies  at  the  university  here,  had  plenty  of  op- 
portunities for  ski-ing,  and  before  the  end  of  the  winter 
was  probably  as  good  at  the  sport  as  Colin  himself. 

Lord  Daybreak's  yacht  was  brought  round  to  Aberdeen, 


BATTLING  WITH  THE  FLOES  AND   THE   CURRENT.     179 

and  there  fitted  out.  After  leaving  Reynolds  and  his  little 
party  on  the  east  coast  of  Greenland,  or  as  near  to  it  as 
the  vessel  could  venture,  he  meant  to  go  for  a  long  cruise  on 
on  his  own  account  around  Spitzbergen  way.  So  he  said. 

As  the  spring  wore  on,  Reynolds  and  Daybreak  were 
very  busy  indeed,  and  might  have  been  seen  all  day  long 
passing  to  or  from  the  quay,  not  far  from  which  the  beautiful 
and  sturdy  yacht  Aurora  was  lying.  But  hardly  anyone 
was  admitted  on  board,  so  the  crowds  of  wondering  curiosity- 
hunters  had  to  be  content  to  gaze  upon  the  vessel  from  the 
shore. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

BATTLING  WITH  THE  FLOES   AND   THE   CURRENT. 

THE  scene  is  changed,  and  now  we  find  Daybreak's  good 
yacht  Aurora  tossing  about  at  sea,  'twixt  Iceland  and 
the  mainland  of  Greenland. 

It  is  summer-time  here.  Not  that  this  season  is  a  very 
gay  one  in  these  high  latitudes.  It  has  its  characteristics, 
nevertheless,  and  these  are  in  marked  contrast  to  the  terrible 
dreariness  of  its  winter,  and  even  its  spring  months,  when 
all  is  locked  in  the  very  arms  of  stern  King  Frost;  when 
bears  are  asleep  in  their  caves,  or,  awakening  at  times,  stalk 
gaunt  and  grim  and  hungry  across  the  inland  ice,  looking 
for  the  seals  they  seldom  see;  when  never  a  bird  is  to  be 
heard  or  seen  in  the  uncertain  light  of  moon,  stars,  or  aurora. 
A  dreary  time  indeed ! 

But  now,  behold!  The  wind  has  been  very  wild,  yet 
though  the  seas  are  still  houses  high,  the  men  of  the  yacht 
are  busy  shaking  out  the  reefs.  She  is  a  steamer,  it  is  true, 
but  no  coals  are  burned  while  breezes  last. 

It  is  early  morning.  The  steward's  bell  has  not  yet  rung 
for  breakfast.  Lord  Daybreak  comes  slowly  up  the  stairs 
that  lead  from  the  saloon. 


180         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"Well,  boys,"  he  says,  addressing  Olaf  and  Colin,  "how 
goes  it?" 

"  The  breeze  is  now  fair,  sir,  and  Captain  Keynolds  says 
we  can  take  the  ice  to-day." 

"Ah!  he  is  very  anxious  to  get  on  shore,  I  know,  but  we 
must  be  as  cautious  as  we  can  be." 

Caesar,  the  Newfoundland  dog,  at  this  moment  made  a 
great  jump  at  his  lordship.  It  was  a  kind  of  double  entendre, 
for,  while  he  licked  Lord  Daybreak's  ear,  he  seized  his  fur- 
cap,  and  was  soon  galloping  round  and  round  the  deck  with 
it,  Keltic  hard  after  him,  and  trying  to  bite  his  heels.  The 
owner  of  the  fur-cap  only  laughed,  and  presently  Olaf 
recovered  his  property,  and  gave  the  dog  a  lecture.  Caesar 
looked  first  at  Olaf,  and  then  at  the  cap,  now  once  more  on 
his  lordship's  head. 

"It's  all  very  well,"  he  seemed  to  say;  "but  you  can't 
understand  what  a  temptation  that  fur-cap  is  to  me.  I'll 
have  it  again  before  the  day  is  out.  You  see." 

Then  he  and  Keltic  went  wildly  romping  round  the 
decks  once  more. 

Rudland  Syme  and  Reynolds  had  been  forward,  and  now 
came  aft,  laughing  and  talking  merrily  together. 

"Ha!  Lord  Daybreak,"  cried  Reynolds,  pointing  to  the 
ice-pack. 

"  *  Now's  the  day  and  now's  the  hour, 
See  the  front  of  battle  lower.' " 

"Aren't  you  too  eager?"  said  Daybreak  laughing. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  I  want  to  count  the  very  few  hours 
now  until  I  stand  high  on  yonder  distant  mountain-top, 
with  my  merry  men  all  around  me." 

"You  are  just  like  a  school-boy,  Reynolds,  looking  for- 
ward to  the  Christmas  holidays." 

"  And  that  is  precisely  how  I  feel.  Only  it  is  summer 
that  is  coming,  not  Christmas.  Syme  and  I  have  been  for- 
ward looking  at  a  unicorn.1  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  sir,  he 

i  The  male  narwhal  is  so  called  by  men  of  our  Greenland  fleet,  from  the  monster 
ivory  tusk  that  he  bears,  and  which  protrudes  from  the  upper  jaw.  It  is  often 
from  8  to  10  feet  long,  and  the  animal— a  species  of  whale  about  20  feet  long— is 
said  to  spear  fishes  with  it.— G.  S. 


BATTLING   WITH   THE   FLOES   AND   THE   CURRENT.      181 

seemed  to  wave  his  ivory  tusk  aloft,  and  welcome  us  back 
to  the  sea  of  ice.  And  we  shall  take  the  ice  to-day." 

"I  suppose  we  must." 

Eing — ding — ding — ding!  It  was  the  steward's  bell,  and 
I  think  Reynolds  ate  a  more  hearty  breakfast  to-day  than 
usual. 

After  prayers — for  morning  worship  was  always  con- 
ducted on  deck,  if  the  weather  permitted — Captain  Reynolds 
ordered  an  inspection  of  his  whole  expedition  and  outfit. 

In  the  latter  Lord  Daybreak  was  considerably  interested. 
He  knew  what  men  were  going  with  the  bold  explorer,  but 
as  to  the  provisions  made  for  their  comfort  and  safety,  he 
as  yet  knew  but  little. 

Reynolds  appeared,  then,  on  deck  about  ten  o'clock,  dressed 
for  the  snow. 

"At  a  first  glance,"  said  Lord  Daybreak,  "I  shouldn't 
think  you  had  enough  on,  Reynolds.  But  everything  is  warm. " 

"  Everything  inside  and  out  is  warm  and  fairly  light,  and 
every  man  of  us  has  three  changes  of  underclothing — all 
woollen,  of  course." 

"  Lay  aft  here,"  he  shouted,  "  all  you  men  of  the  expedi- 
tion." At  the  word  of  command  there  took  their  places  on 
the  quarter-deck,  all  dressed  for  the  snow — Colin,  Olaf, 
Joseph,  Rudland  Syme,  Sigurd,  and  Svolto. 

"Are  these  all?" 

"  No,"  said  Colin,  and  he  whistled.  Caesar  came  bound- 
ing aft  with  little  Keltic  at  his  heels,  and  both  stood  quietly 
in  line  with  the  others. 

"  I  hope,"  said  Lord  Daybreak  laughing,  "you  won't  have 
to  kill  and  eat  that  noble  dog." 

"0  no,  sir,"  Colin  made  answer.  "My  aunt  says  I  must 
bring  Csesar  back  with  me.  Besides,"  he  added  with  a  smile, 
"Svolto,  the  Lapp  lad,  would  last  us  for  a  whole  fortnight 
at  a  pinch." 

Each  man  had  a  hooded  oilskin  coat,  the  hood  lined  with 
red  flannel,  and  with  strings,  so  that  it  could  be  tied  across 
the  face  above  the  snow  spectacles.  The  latter  were  meant 
to  prevent  them  from  turning  snow-blind.  Both  hands  and 
feet  were  also  well  protected. 


182         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

Then  there  was  a  trustworthy  tent,  which  was  now  par- 
tially erected  amidships,  and  appeared,  though  small,  to  be 
exceedingly  serviceable. 

The  inner  man  was  also  well  provided  for.  But  one  thing 
was  noticeable,  not  only  as  regarded  the  outfit  or  general 
"rig-out",  but  the  provisions  as  well,  and  it  was  this:  while 
everything  was  serviceable  and  good,  not  an  ounce  of  super- 
fluous weight  was  to  be  carried.  Tinned  meats,  therefore, 
portable  soups,  and  beef-teas,  essence  of  coffee  and  cocoa,  &c., 
&c.,  with  plenty  of  biscuits  and  butter.  Medicinal  comforts 
in  the  shape  of  brandy  and  a  little  wine  were  taken,  and 
medicines  also,  but  these  were  all  under  the  charge  of  Syme 
himself. 

The  firearms  were  good  but  light,  and  I  may  say  the  same 
for  the  scientific  instruments.  Then  there  was  the  light 
boat,  and  the  sledges,  also  light.  Indeed,  when  loaded  up, 
one  man  would  manage,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  to 
drag  one  of  them  over  the  snow. 

"  Why,"  said  Daybreak,  as  he  looked  about  him  at  the 
display,  "you  have  quite  a  museum  here!" 

But  what  not  only  his  lordship,  but  all  the  crew  of  the 
Aurora  seemed  to  take  the  greatest  interest  in,  were  the 
sleeping-bags. 

These  were  made  of  the  hides  of  foxes,  procured  specially 
from  Scotland  and  Norway.  The  hairy  side,  of  course,  was 
turned  in.  Each  bag  was  meant  to  be  the  sleeping-sack  for 
three,  or  was  large  enough  to  hold  three,  and  the  hoods 
could,  in  very  severe  weather,  be  tied  over  the  men's  faces, 
so  as  entirely  to  protect  them  against  cold  and  the  weather 
generally. 

No,  there  was  no  danger  of  their  smothering;  for  so  strong 
is  the  air  when  the  temperature  is  low,  that  a  hole  or  open- 
ing no  larger  than  a  pencil-case  could  fill,  is  sufficient  to 
admit  air  enough  to  support  life. 

Now  Reynolds'  people,  as  he  called  the  members  of  his 
expedition,  had  all  been  drilled  to  the  use  of  these  bed-bags, 
so  that  at  the  order  "  all  hands  turn  in  ",  everybody  curled 
up  with  a  celerity  that  was  not  only  marvellous,  but  so 
amusing  that  everybody  roared  with  laughter 


BATTLING  WITH  THE   FLOES  AND   THE   CURRENT.      183 

Reynolds  himself  took  to  his  bag  with  the  rest,  and  so, 
strange  to  say,  did  the  great  Newfoundland  and  little 
Keltie,  and  after  they  were  all  bedded  up,  this  remarkable 
expedition  might  be  said  to  consist  merely  of  three  very 
untidy-looking  bundles,  which  somehow  reminded  one  of 
bodies  sewn  up  in  sacks  ready  to  be  dropped  overboard  by 
way  of  burial. 

But  I  must  tell  you  how  they  were  distributed. 

Bag  I.  contained  Reynolds,  Joe,  and  Rudland  Syme. 

Bag  II.  contained  Colin,  Olaf,  and  Caesar. 

Bag  III.  contained  Sigurd,  Svolto,  and  little  Keltie. 

It  is  nearly  the  end  of  June,  and  the  Aurora  is  far  up 
north,  as  far  indeed  as  it  is  safe  to  go,  for  she  is  nearly  at 
66°  N.  latitude.  The  weather  has  been  unsettled  of  late, 
and  far  from  pleasant,  while  the  ice  consists  not  only  of  the 
usual  large  snow-clad  flat  pieces,  but  of  huge  mountain- 
icebergs  that  tower  up  here  and  there  all  over  the  pack. 
Had  they  been  more  numerous  they  would  have  struck 
terror  to  the  hearts  of  many  of  his  crew,  who  had  never 
sailed  in  these  regions  till  now.  Among  the  larger  pieces 
of  ice  was  a  mass  of  broken-up  pancake  and  bay  ice, 
and  a  deal  of  slush,  showing  that,  during  recent  gales,  the 
motion  in  the  pack  must  indeed  have  been  terrible.  At 
any  hour,  too,  it  might  come  on  to  blow  again  from  seaward; 
a  heavy  swell  might  roll  in,  and  then,  indeed,  the  chances  of 
safety  for  the  Aurora  yacht,  strong  though  she  was,  would 
be  small  indeed. 

It  was  the  knowledge  of  such  a  possibility  that  now 
created  the  anxiety  in  Reynolds'  mind  to  be  landed — not  on 
the  shores  of  Greenland — this  would  be  impossible  owing 
to  the  ice  and  the  tremendous  rate  at  which  the  mill-stream 
currents  raged  and  ran — but  on  the  pack. 

Since  her  arrival  in  the  sea  of  ice,  the  Aurora  had  been 
more  than  once  in  the  "nips",  and  though  he  said  nothing 
about  it,  Reynolds,  and  for  the  matter  of  that,  Sigurd  also, 
felt  convinced  that  the  Aurora  was  not  quite  so  strong  as 
her  noble  owner  believed  her  to  be. 

The  weather  continued  unfavourable  for  a  time,  although 


184          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

the  wind  was  low.  Fogs  alternated  with  heavy  falls  of 
sleet  and  rain,  while  it  was  not  unusual  for  the  temperature 
to  sink  so  low  in  a  few  hours  that  Lord  Daybreak  feared  his 
vessel  might  be  imprisoned.  But  this  was  an  occurrence 
that  at  this  time  of  the  year  was  but  little  to  be  dreaded. 

Many  seals  were  seen  on  the  ice,  and  both  Olaf  and  Colin 
had  opportunities  of  proving  themselves  to  be  excellent  sports- 
men. Olaf  killed  one  bear.  No,  even  this  was  not  the  bear. 
Many  bladder-nose  seals  were  also  bagged.  These  fierce 
and  terrible  brutes  are  so  named  because,  when  irritated, 
they  raise  a  hood  or  bag,  which  is  inflated,  and  seems  to  be 
a  protection  for  the  skull.  They  will  seldom  run  from  a 
man,  but  will  attack  him  most  ferociously  if  enraged. 

One  or  two  thorough  duckings  were  the  result  of  Olaf's 
and  Colin's  present  sporting  ventures.  For  the  snow  on  the 
ice-tops  was  now  somewhat  soft,  and  overlapped  the  water 
at  the  edges.  However,  as  it  happened,  there  were  no 
sharks  in  waiting  to  convey  them  farther  down  into  the 
water's  dark  depths,  so  they  were  speedily  rescued,  some- 
what sadder,  somewhat  wiser,  and  considerably  wetter. 

The  weather  had  cleared  at  last.  And  time  for  it  to  clear, 
thinks  Reynolds,  for  it  was  now  the  10th  of  July.  Afar  off 
yonder,  beyond  the  now  quiet  and  still  ice-pack,  can  be  seen 
the  land — the  glorious  land ! 

But  the  ice  did  not  reach  quite  all  the  way  to  the  wild 
and  rocky  shore.  No,  there  was  the  open  sea  between,  and 
miles  of  it.  Indeed,  at  one  part  it  went  stretching  away 
far  inland  between  bold,  dark  cliffs  that  pronounced  it  to  be 
a  fjord  similar  to  those  in  Norway. 

There  might  have  been  a  possibility  of  working  the  yacht 
away  in  through  as  far  as  the  water,  but  this  would  incur 
not  only  delay,  but  considerable  risk  to  the  vessel.  Lord 
Daybreak  had  really  been  more  than  good  and  kind,  and 
Reynolds  wanted  him  to  get  away  out  to  sea  as  soon  as 
possible. 

While  he  was  making  these  calculations,  the  explorer  was 
aloft  in  the  crow's-nest.  He  now  came  below.  Daybreak 
was  on  the  quarter-deck. 


BATTLING  WITH  THE   FLOES  AND  THE   CURRENT.     185 

"The  time  has  come,  my  lord." 

"And  you  really  have  made  up  your  mind  to  start  soon1?" 

"  Yes,  this  very  day.  Our  letters  are  written,  our  traps 
are  all  on  deck.  We  shall  leave  the  kindly  shelter  of  your 
yacht,  Lord  Daybreak,  after  dinner — and  with  many  regrets. 
You  have  been  so,  so  good." 

"  Tush,  tush,  tush !  you  have  done  me  a  high  honour,  and 
I  am  really  sorry  to  part  with  you.  You  really  think  you 
can  reach  Disko  Bayf ' 

"Lord  Daybreak,  we  are  going  to  try  as  hard  as  we 
know  how,  that  is  all  I  can  say." 

"Bravo!     You  are,  indeed,  a  plucky  fellow!" 

"Now  it  is  my  turn  to  say  tush,  tush,  tush!"  said  Rey- 
nolds. 

Lord  Daybreak  laughed. 

"Shall  I  order  the  dinner  half  an  hour  earlier?" 

"  Ah !  now  that  is  to  the  point.  Yes,  I  should  like  my 
people  to  have  one  good  square  meal  all  round — is  that  a 
paradox  1 — before  we  leave.  Heaven  alone  knows  where  we 
shall  eat  the  next!" 

Farewells  were  said,  heartily  enough  it  is  true,  but  some- 
what sadly;  that  could  not  be  denied.  And  yet  I  think  the 
sadness  all  lay  on  the  side  of  the  ship's  crew  and  not  on  that 
of  the  explorers,  who  were  not  only  much  excited,  but  very 
hopeful. 

And  now  they  are  over  the  side  and  away ;  three  men  in 
one  boat  with  a  dog,  two  men  in  the  other,  plus  a  boy — the 
Lapp — and  Keltic. 

That  ringing  cheer  as  the  men  crowd  into  the  rigging 
and  wave  their  caps — will  those  bold  explorers  ever  hear 
such  another  1  Again  and  again  it  rises  on  the  still  air,  and 
while  the  great  dog  and  Keltic  bark,  the  men  in  the  boats 
add  the  sound  of  their  voices,  and  cheer  as  well  as  they 
can.  Then  all  is  silent,  till  a  gun  breaks  the  eerisome  stillness 
of  the  pack;  but  in  a  few  minutes'  time  the  ship  is  hidden 
by  lofty  hummocks  of  ice  that  rise  up  from  the  floes,  and 
they  see  the  Aurora  no  more. 

Rowing  boats  among  open  ice  is  tiresome  work,  and  as 


186         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

often  as  not  men  would  prefer  to  drag  a  whaler  over  the 
ice  to  steering  round  piece  after  piece,  with  the  danger  per- 
haps of  getting  the  boat  crushed  into  match-wood  by  closing 
bergs  or  floes.  But  to-day  there  is  little  swell  or  sea  on,  and 
the  noes  are  almost  motionless. 

Soon,  however,  it  gets  closer  together,  or  rather,  I  should 
say,  it  gets  closer  here  and  there.  Reynolds  lands  now  and 
then,  to  climb  a  hummock  and  look  around  him  longingly 
— 0,  so  longingly ! — at  the  distant  shore.  When  he  returns 
he  often  gives  the  order  to  put  back  or  to  change  the 
direction. 

It  is  a  strange  journey — partly  a  boat  cruise  and  partly  a 
walking  tour.  "How  can  this  be?"  the  reader  may  ask. 
Why,  in  this  way :  they  come  to  patches  of  flat  or  hummocky 
floes  so  close  together  that  they  have  to  haul  up  their 
boats  and  drag  them  over  the  snow,  the  men  sinking  in  its 
softness  even  over  their  knees. 

Long  hours  of  this  hard  and  fatiguing  work  took  place, 
and  matters  appeared  to  be  getting  worse  instead  of  better. 
To  begin  with,  the  weather  once  more  became  dark  and 
cloudy,  and  snow  commenced  to  fall. 

This  was  not  the  worst,  for  not  only  did  the  wind  rise 
and  moan  mournfully  round  the  snow-clad  hummocks,  but 
a  swell  came  in  from  southwards  and  east  and  set  the  floes 
in  motion. 

Reynolds  thanked  God  in  his  inmost  soul  that  neither  the 
wind  nor  the  sea  obtained  any  great  height,  and  he  prayed 
at  the  same  time  that  this  might  not  be  the  case,  and  that 
Lord  Daybreak  in  his  yacht  might  get  safely  away  into  the 
open  sea. 

Though  tired,  the  men — they  were  all  men  now — continued 
rowing.  They  soon  came  to  a  lane  of  open  water  which  ran 
northwards  and  west.  Up  this  they  pulled  until  they  could 
see  that  it  was  gradually  closing  in  upon  them.  They  must 
not  permit  such  a  catastrophe  to  happen,  and  so  they  once 
more  got  their  boats  upon  the  ice. 

They  dragged  the  boats  westward  as  well  as  they  could, 
and  then  came  to  another  lane  of  water,  and  this  they 
followed  as  they  had  the  other. 


BATTLING  WITH   THE   FLOES   AND   THE   CURRENT.      187 

But  again  the  lane  narrows,  and  narrows  at  last  so  rapidly, 
for  a  violent  squall  had  come  on  to  blow,  that  hardly  had 
the  boats  been  dragged  up  into  safety  upon  the  ice-pack 
before  the  green  sides  of  the  floes  closed  together  with  a 
clash  that  might  have  been  heard  for  miles. 

"  Thank  the  Lord  we  ain't  down  there!"  said  Joseph  with 
a  shudder. 

"Amen!"  said  Reynolds. 

They  remained  for  some  time  on  this  floe,  for  all  hands 
were  very  weary. 

"What  say  you  to  tea,  Joseph?"  said  Reynolds  to  his 
first  officer. 

Joe  had  been,  like  the  others,  swallowing  mouthfuls  of 
the  snow.  Even  the  dogs  had  been  doing  the  same. 

"Tea?"  cried  Colin,  "0,  that  would  be  jolly!" 

So  the  cooking-range  was  got  out.  This  was  a  portion  of 
the  equipment  that  I  have  not  yet  mentioned.  Nor  need  I 
now  describe  it.  There  are  many  such  in  the  market — good, 
bad,  and  indifferent.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  one  Reynolds 
had  chosen  was  most  complete  and  handy,  and  that  the  fuel 
consumed  in  it  was  pure  spirits  of  wine. 

Portions  of  the  tent  were  now  spread  upon  the  ice,  and 
preparations  made  for  a  little  al  fresco  tea-party.  The  men 
all  squatted  around  the  stove;  they  had  their  oilskins  on  and 
the  hoods  up,  for  the  wind  that  continued  to  blow  fitfully 
was  not  too  warm,  and  now  and  then  there  was  borne  along 
on  its  wings  what  Scotsmen  call  flying  showers,  and  English- 
men term  Scotch  mist.  The  showers  were  sleety. 

That  comfortable  tea,  with  biscuits  and  butter,  which  even 
the  honest  dog,  shared,  put  life  and  mettle  into  every  heart. 
It  was  resolved,  therefore,  to  continue  the  journey  towards 
the  shore  forthwith. 

In  the  centre  of  the  floe  or  berg  on  which  tea  had  been 
served,  was  a  very  high  hummock  of  ice.  Colin  had  gone 
to  the  top  to  look  round.  He  stood  gazing  landwards  for 
fully  five  minutes,  then  he  called  to  his  captain.  Reynolds 
was  soon  by  his  side. 

"  You  see  that  great  ice-mountain  yonder,  with  its  green, 
glittering  sides'?" 


188         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"I  see  several,"  said  Reynolds,  "and  you  can  note  from 
the  way  the  waves  are  beating  against  them  and  sending 
the  spume  and  spray  like  smoke  high  into  the  sky,  that 
they  are  all  stranded." 

"  Well,  yes,  I  know.  But  the  berg  I  wish  you  to  look  at 
is  one  with  another  behind  it.  Yonder!" 

"Yes;  I  see  it." 

"  Keep  your  eyes  on  it  for  a  moment." 

Reynolds  did  so. 

"By  Jove!"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  now  noticed  that  the 
stranded  bergs  seemed  shifting  their  positions,  "we  are 
in  a  current  like  a  mill-stream,  that  is  bearing  us  rapidly 
southwards.  Why,  I  had  not  bargained  for  this." 

It  was  only  too  true,  as  their  attempt  to  get  farther  west 
towards  the  land  very  soon  proved.  However,  they  set  to 
work.  You  never  know  what  you  can  do  till  you  try.  So, 
as  the  ice  was  a  little  more  closely  packed,  and  it  was  easy 
to  get  the  boats  from  piece  to  piece,  they  made  fair  pro- 
gress. 

It  was  easy  to  be  seen,  however,  that  the  farther  west 
they  got  the  stronger  grew  the  awful  current.  They  now 
came  into  broader  lanes  of  water,  but  they  were  still  far 
away  from  the  open  water  that  washed  the  shores  of  Green- 
land. Moreover,  it  was  found  almost  impossible  to  make 
any  great  headway  through  that  mill-race  current.  It  was 
almost  as  strong  as  the  rapids  that,  .above  the  great  falls  of 
Niagara,  have  swept  many  a  boat  onwards  to  her  doom. 

They  reached  the  ice  once  more,  and  once  more  dragging 
was  recommenced  with  a  will.  They  were  at  this  time,  be 
it  understood,  somewhat  to  the  southwards  of  Cape  Dan, 
the  position  of  which  is  far  up  north  on  the  east  Greenland 
coast. 

"Alas,  sir,"  said  Joseph  to  Captain  Reynolds,  "this  is 
heartless  work!" 

"We  mustn't  let  down  our  courage,  Joe;  things  may 
take  a  turn  soon." 

"  I  wish  the  current  would  take  a  turn,  sir." 

"  Well,  you  know,  it  may,  and  I  think  if  we  could  only 
reach  more  inshore  it  might." 


BATTLING  WITH   THE   FLOES   AND   THE   CURRENT.      189 

The  captain's  cheerful  words  seemed  to  instil  hope  in 
every  heart,  and  they  continued  at  their  work  right  cheerily. 

The  boats  were  dragged  along  across  a  field  of  well- 
packed  ice.  What  would  it  lead  to  ?  Open  water,  thought 
Reynolds,  and  everyone  was  of  the  same  opinion. 

"  We  will  reach  it,"  said  Reynolds,  "  in  an  hour  or  two  at 
the  most;  I  feel  sure  of  this,  and  very  hopeful.  Of  course, 
there  may  be  some  floating  pieces  of  ice  in  it,  but  the  shore, 
boys,  the  land,  the  glorious  land,  will  be  beyond;  and  though 
the  current  may  for  a  time  sweep  us  southwards  we  will 
reach  it  at  last.  Come,  Seabird,  what  say  you  ?  You  are 
unusually  silent." 

"  It  is,"  said  Sigurd,  "  because  I  have  not  the  hope  that 
you  have." 

Every  one  was  willing  to  be  advised  by  Sigurd  at  any  time, 
for  all  deferred  to  his  great  knowledge  of  "the  country",  in 
other  words,  the  sea  of  ice. 

"Suppose,  sir,"  he  added  respectfully,  "we  get  near  to 
the  shore,  and  then  find  that  there  is  still  a  mile  of  pancake 
ice  to  get  through,  ice  which  is  too  small  to  drag  our  boats 
over,  and  too  large  to  row  or  push  them  through  without 
the  certainty  of  their  being  smashed  up  in  a  few  minutes." 

It  must  be  admitted  that  Sigurd's  speech,  an  unusually  long 
one,  was  not  couched  in  English  so  good  as  this.  Indeed, 
much  of  it  was  intermingled  with  words  from  the  Norse 
that  Olaf  had  to  translate. 

"  Well,  Seabird,"  replied  Reynolds,  "  in  the  event  of  our 
meeting  with  ice  such  as  you  describe  near  to  the  shore,  we 
will  row  farther  north,  and,  depend  upon  it,  we  shall  be  able 
to  bore  in  somewhere.  And  once  on  shore  we  shall  dine; 
then  sleep." 

"Hurrah!"  cried  Colin,  "that  will  be  good." 

But  Sigurd  only  shook  his  head. 


190         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

"FOR  GOD   HAS   GIVEN  MAN   DOMINION   OVER  EVEN  THE 
WAVES" — A   NIGHT   OF  TERROR. 

AFTER  they  had  advanced  about  a  mile  and  a  half,  all 
hopes  of  being  able  to  reach  the  shore,  for  some  time 
at  least,  were  extinguished  in  every  heart.  For  instead  of 
reaching  the  open  water  they  came  upon  a  field  of  ice  of  a 
description  that  I  doubt  if  even  Sigurd  had  often  seen  before. 
Reynolds  looked  across  it  towards  the  distant  land  in  as- 
tonishment and  blank  despair. 

What  was  its  character,  it  may  be  asked?  I  will  en- 
deavour to  tell  you  in  as  simple  language  as  I  can  com- 
mand. It  will  be  best  to  compare  it  with  that  on  which 
they  now  stood,  and  across  which  they  had  been  dragging 
their  boats  till  every  shoulder  ached  and  burned.  This  was 
composed  of  large  floes,  or  pieces,  or  bergs — call  them  what 
you  choose.  These  pieces  were  about  forty  feet  square, 
judging  roughly,  and  many  of  them  were  much  larger,  with 
hummocks  in  the  centre;  all  being,  of  course,  covered  with 
snow. 

But  the  ice  that  now  lay  before  them  seemed  an  awful 
mixture  of  pancake  ice,  which  I  have  already  described,  and 
rough,  glittering  boulders,  evidently  the  wreckage  of  large 
bergs  smashed  to  pieces  by  the  wash  and  force  of  the  sea. 
Among  these  there  were  pools,  as  it  were,  of  wet  slush  every- 
where, as  far  as  could  be  seen.  A  sea  like  this  no  boats 
could  navigate,  nor  could  they  be  dragged  across  the  ice; 
hardly,  indeed,  was  there  foot-hold  for  a  man  on  it. 

Sigurd  shook  his  head  once  more.  All  eyes  were  now 
turned,  naturally  enough,  on  Captain  Reynolds.  He  only 
nodded  and  smiled. 

"Bad  job,  isn't  it?"  said  Colin. 

"  Seems  so.  But  we  must  wait,  boys;  we  are  all  in  the 
hands  of  Providence.  We  must  hope  still.  The  outlook  is 


FIGHTING  THE   ICE.  191 

dark  at  present;  but  to  give  way  to  despair  would  really  be 
the  height  of  folly." 

The  outlook  certainly  was  dark  enough.  Only  think  of  it. 
They  were  tired,  they  were  weary,  and  almost  ready  to  drop. 
Beneath  their  feet  was  a  staunch  and  heavy  floe,  it  is  true,  but 
against  its  sides  other  great  pieces  were  grinding,  with  a  noise 
that  silenced  the  moaning  of  the  rising  winds.  The  sky  was 
covered  with  dark  and  threatening  clouds,  cold  sleet  was 
steadily  falling.  All  around  them  the  ice-field  was  heaving 
to  the  swell  and  motion  of  the  waves  beneath,  while  shore- 
wards,  if  they  gazed,  they  could  see  great  stranded  moun- 
tains of  ice,  the  seas  and  slush  dashing  high  against  their 
glassy  sides,  and  rising  in  the  air  like  the  smoke  of  rolling 
cataracts. 

Eeynolds  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  floe  for  many  minutes 
thinking.  His  men  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  boats,  or  even 
squatted  or  lay  on  the  snow.  They  were  waiting  for  the 
master  to  speak.  Even  the  eyes  of  the  great  Newfoundland, 
as  he  stretched  himself  with  his  beautiful  head  reclining  on 
his  fore-paws,  were  turned  towards  Reynolds. 

He  looked  round  at  last.  He  sighed,  or  rather  he  had 
commenced  a  sigh,  but  he  stifled  it  ere  it  could  all  escape. 
Then  he  laughed  lightly,  and  commenced  to  talk.  His  smile 
or  his  laugh  was  a  very  reassuring  one,  and  lit  up  an  other- 
wise somewhat  serious  face,  as  the  rays  of  the  rising  sun  light 
up  the  clouds  and  change  their  grays  and  bronzes  to  orange 
and  gold. 

"Boys,"  he  said,  "do  you  know  what  that  field  of  ice 
has  just  said  to  me  ?  It  has  said,  *  Thus  far  shalt  thou  come, 
and  no  further'." 

"And  what  did  you  reply?"  said  Olaf  smiling. 

"I  replied  proudly  and  defiantly  that  farther  I  would 
come,  and  that  nothing  should  prevent  me  from  gaining 
footing  on  yonder  rocky  shore,  because  God  has  given  man 
dominion  over  even  the  waves." 

He  paused  a  moment. 

"Was  that  all?"  said  Olaf. 

"  Not  quite.  You  see  those  lofty  icebergs  with  the  seas 
sweeping  their  base,  and  the  spume  and  foam  leaping  high 


192          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

against  their  crystalline  sides?  Well,  these  mighty  moun- 
tains of  ice  seemed  to  speak  to  me  in  signals." 

"And  what  did  the  ice-mountains  say,  sir?" 

"They  told  me  that  I  must  keep  up  my  courage  and 
yours,  and  that  I  must  not  be  afraid  of  the  current.  That 
current,  they  said,  had  swept  them  down  from  the  far  north 
and  stranded  them  where  they  now  lay,  and  in  a  short 
time  they  would  break  up  before  the  mighty  force  of  the 
waves,  because  that  was  the  fate  of  all  icebergs;  but  the 
current,  they  told  me,  was  our  best  friend,  that  it  would 
sweep  us  and  the  floes  on  which  we  stand  far  to  the  south, 
and  away  from  the  ugly  ice-stream  that  now  bars  our  further 
progress  landwards. 

'Boys,"  he  added,  "have  I  given  you  hope?" 

'  You  have !  you  have ! "  they  cried. 

'Hurrah!"  from  Colin. 

'  Wowff!  wowff!"  from  the  great  dog. 

'  Wiff!  wiff!"  from  little  Keltic. 

'  Come,  then,  lads.  Show  a  bold  front.  Joe,  you  want 
a  smoke,  I  know.  Well,  help  up  with  the  tent,  and  you 
shall  have  one.  Then  we  shall  dine." 

"Then  sleep?"  asked  Colin. 

"  Yes,  sleep,  my  lad,  for  we  all  need  it." 

Half  an  hour  afterwards  the  tent  was  up  and  dinner  was 
ready.  Reynolds,  with  Olaf  by  his  side,  was  standing  by 
the  edge  of  the  floe  as  the  meal  was  announced.  Perhaps 
the  bold  explorer's  thoughts  were  somewhat  gloomy,  for,  it 
must  be  confessed,  the  prospects  of  the  expedition  did  not 
look  very  bright  at  present. 

Far  behind  the  western  hills  and  the  wild  barrier  of 
inland  ice — that  Reynolds  would  have  given  anything  just 
then  to  be  able  to  set  foot  upon — the  sun  was  sinking  in 
gloomy,  almost  awful  splendour.  Through  the  red-edged 
rifts  in  the  banks  of  cumulus  his  rays  shot  angry  saturnine 
glances  across  the  chafing  and  moaning  sea  of  ice.  Those 
rays  lingered  longest  on  the  jagged  peaks  of  the  surf- tor- 
mented icebergs  in  yonder,  changing  the  rising  spray  into 
an  orange-crimson  smoke.  And  now  slowly  sank  the  great 


FIGHTING   THE   ICE.  193 

luminary;  the  clouds  became  bronze,  then  gray,  then  al- 
most black. 

Night  was  coming  on.  A  short  night  it  would  be,  but  a 
night  of  terror  nevertheless. 

"We  can't  make  a  better  of  it,  can  we?"  said  Reynolds 
with  a  kind  of  forced  cheerfulness,  as  he  took  Olaf  kindly 
by  the  arm  and  led  him  towards  the  little  tent. 

"  I  think  we  can,  sir,"  said  Olaf. 

"How,  lad— how?" 

"By  eating  a  good  dinner." 

Well,  if  the  dinner  was  not  what  one  would  expect  at  a 
west-end  London  restaurant,  it  was  at  least  wholesome,  and 
all,  even  Caesar  and  Keltic,  were  satisfied. 

Then  pipes  were  lit,  and  after  an  hour's  chat  and  smoking, 
prayers  were  said.  Brief  these  were,  it  is  true,  but  not  the 
less  fervent,  and  no  doubt  effectual. 

"Now,  boys,  who  shall  watch  to-night?" 

"  I  will,  sir,  for  two  hours  to  begin  with,"  said  Sigurd. 

"  And  I  for  the  next  two,"  said  the  Lapp  lad  Svolto. 

And  so  it  was  arranged. 

The  rest  of  the  members  of  the  expedition  crept  quietly 
into  their  sleeping-bags,  and,  despite  the  roar  and  turmoil 
of  the  sea  of  pancake  ice  and  slush  so  close  to  them,  despite 
the  shrieking  of  the  floes  as  they  ground  their  green  sides 
together,  everyone  was  soon  sound  asleep. 

Sigurd  did  not  like  the  look  of  things  at  all.  The  wind 
had  risen  considerably,  and  ever  and  anon  a  cold,  sleety 
shower  was  borne  along  on  its  wings,  so  that,  strong  and 
hardy  as  he  was,  he  shivered  in  its  wet  and  dreary  em- 
brace. 

An  hour  later  the  sleet  had  changed  to  snow,  that  fell  in 
flakes  of  such  immense  size,  that  in  a  very  brief  space  of 
time  the  whole  "  country  "  was  covered  inches  deep. 

Then  it  ceased  as  quickly  as  it  had  come  on ;  the  sky  now 
cleared,  the  stars  shone  out,  and  in  the  eastern  horizon  ap- 
peared the  red,  red  moon. 

Moon  and  stars  give  ever  an  air  of  solemnity  to  scenery, 
but  under  their  weird  and  dreamy  light  scenery  like  that 

(988)  N 


194         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

around  this  strange  encampment  was  impressive  in  the  ex- 
treme. Even  Sigurd,  simple  and  but  semi-tutored  though 
his  mind  was,  felt  almost  awed  as  he  gazed  around  him. 

This  was  a  dead  sea  he  stood  in  the  midst  of,  and  the 
snow,  he  could  not  help  thinking,  was  its  winding-sheet, 
while  the  mournful  sounds  proceeding  from  the  floes  was 
but  its  dirge.  Yes,  everything  seemed  dead  around  him — 
the  snow-clad  boats  looked  as  if  they  had  been  deserted  for 
a  hundred  years,  the  tent  in  its  mantle  of  white  looked  like 
a  tent  of  the  dead. 

Mercy!  were  they  dead  within  it?  He  walked  towards 
the  entrance  and  lifted  a  corner  of  the  frozen  canvas,  but 
was  only  reassured  when  he  crept  through,  and  listened  for 
a  time  to  the  loud  breathing  of  the  sleepers. 

It  was  time  to  wake  Svolto  to  keep  his  watch.  A  ray  of 
moonlight  stole  in  through  a  crevice  and  fell  on  the  boy's 
face.  Little  Keltie  was  snuggled  up  in  his  arms,  and  the 
two  looked  so  comfortable  that  Sigurd  had  not  the  heart  to 
disturb  them. 

So  he  stole  out  again  as  silently  as  he  had  entered. 

The  wind  still  blew  high.  It  blew  even  higher,  and 
strange  pranks  the  waves  or  swell  was  now  playing  among 
that  pack  of  pancake  ice  and  broken  bergs. 

They  say  that  every  seventh  wave  is  the  highest.  Well, 
it  might  have  been  the  strength  of  the  seventh  wave,  but 
every  now  and  again,  as  Sigurd  looked  landward  across 
that  ice,  the  commotion  was  marvellous;  not  only  were 
pieces  of  green  ice  and  spray  dashed  high  in  the  air,  but 
seas  of  slush  as  well,  and  at  times  the  edges  of  the  round, 
flat  pieces  were  raised  high  in  the  air,  or  the  pancakes  were 
themselves  completely  overturned.  Nor  was  this  all,  for 
the  slush  and  broken  pieces  were  cast  high  up  on  the  edge 
of  the  floe  on  which  the  camp  was  placed,  and  more  than 
once  lumps  of  ice  as  big  as  half-bricks  were  pitched  over  the 
sentry's  head,  falling  on  the  snow  beside  the  tent. 

Cold?,  0,  bitterly  cold!  Sigurd  was  a  man  much  more 
fond  of  exertion  than  dreaming,  so  he  now  drew  the  hood 
or  cowl  of  his  oilskin  across  his  face  and  commenced  walk- 
ing rapidly  up  and  down  across  the  snow-clad  floe. 


A   NIGHT   OF  TERROR.  195 

The  moon  rose  higher  and  higher,  and  now  the  night  was 
as  clear  almost  as  day.  Then  commenced  an  adventure 
which  I  must  relate,  although  it  added  to  the  horror  of  this 
dreary  night.  About  a  mile  up  north  on  a  rocky  island 
a  huge  bear  crept  out  of  his  den  and  gazed  seawards  across 
the  ice.  His  wife  followed  him  and  took  her  place  by  his 
side;  and  had  you  seen  them  standing  there  in  the  clear 
moonlight,  you  would  have  confessed  that  all  the  bears  ever 
you  had  seen  would  have  sunk  into  insignificance  beside 
those  lordly  brutes. 

I  am  going  to  put  their  thoughts  in  words;  it  is  a  way 
I  have  when  telling  a  story  about  the  lower  animals. 

"  Lovely  night !"  said  Mr.  Bruin,  after  yawning  so  loud 
that  all  the  rocks  in  the  neighbourhood  resounded. 

"Lovely  night!"  said  Mrs.  Bruin.  She  never  attempted 
to  contradict  her  lord  and  master,  knowing  from  dire  ex- 
perience the  exact  weight  of  that  huge  right  paw  of  his. 

"And  I  do  feel  so  hungry,  you  wouldn't  believe!"  he 


"And  yet  we  made  a  good  supper,  hubbie." 

"  Only  the  shoulder  of  a  seal  and  one  little  Eskimo  boy 
we  found  playing  by  the  shore.  What  is  that  to  a  bear  like 
me?  Now  all  the  seals  have  gone,  and  I  could  eat  a  bladder 
nose  to-night.  0,  look,"  he  added,  "  what  is  that  dark  on 
the  ice  far  down  yonder?" 

"A  seal  or  two  it  must  be,"  said  his  wife. 

"0,  come,"  cried  Mr.  Bruin  excitedly,  "I'm  off." 

"  0,  my  dear,  don't  venture.  You  and  I — for  I'll  go  if 
you  go — can  never  cross  that  raging  current.  And  you 
know,  hubbie,  you're  not  over  well.  You'll  catch  your  death 
of  cold." 

"  But  I'm  going,  old  lady,"  he  roared.  "  You  can  stay  if 
you  please.  I  believe  yonder  thing  is  a  man,  and  I'm  going 
to  pick  his  bones.  I  haven't  tasted  man — since — since — " 

"  Since  supper,"  said  his  wife. 

"Bother!"  roared  Bruin,  "that  was  but  a  boy.  I  want 
to  eat  a  man." 

Splash!  splash!  Both  Bruin  and  his  wife  have  leapt  off 
the  rock.  For  a  moment  or  two  the  dark  water  seems  to 


196         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

have  engulfed  them.  Next  moment  both  might  have  been 
seen  heading  for  the  north-east.  They  were  too  wise  to 
attempt  swimming  straight  across. 

It  was  a  long  swim  and  a  strong  swim.  A  bladder-nose 
seal  more  than  once  rose  quite  close  to  them.  The  bears  saw 
him,  but  were  powerless  to  give  battle.  A  great  narwhal  or 
sea-unicorn,  pursuing  his  lonesome  way  through  the  darkling 
water,  his  ten-foot  spear  of  ivory  glittering  in  the  moon- 
beams every  time  he  rose  to  the  surface,  passed  athwart  their 
very  noses.  That  unicorn  could  have  transfixed  the  two  as 
they  swam  side  by  side. 

Olaf  had  a  strange  dream  a  short  time  after  this.  He 
thought  he  was  walking  with  Colin  on  a  lonely  ice-field, 
when  through  an  opening  therein  a  terrible  beast,  with 
fearsome  eyes  and  long,  slimy  arms,  uprose,  and  winding 
those  arms  around  his  friend,  dragged  him  down  to  death 
in  the  cold,  black  sea. 

Olaf  awoke  with  a  scream.  Colin  was  aroused  too.  Both 
got  out. 

"I'm  going  to  relieve  the  sentry,"  said  Colin;  "I'm  sure 
he  has  done  more  than  his  watch." 

"I'll  go  too." 

They  were  standing  close  together  on  the  floe,  which  was 
rocking  from  side  to  side  like  a  ship  in  a  sea-way. 

Bruin  and  his  wife  had  reached  the  pack  some  time 
before.  They  had  shaken  themselves  dry,  or  as  dry  as 
possible,  and  were  now  moving  on  at  a  shambling  kind  of 
a  trot  to  attack  the  camp.  On  a  neighbouring  piece  of  ice 
rose  a  tall  hummock.  Behind  this  they  hid  for  a  moment 
to  reconnoitre. 

"  I  told  you  it  was  a  man,"  said  Mr.  Bruin.  "  Now  there 
are  three.  No,  one's  a  boy.  He  don't  count.  Are  you 
ready,  wife?" 

"  Let's  have  another  squint,"  said  his  wife. 

"0,  look,  look!"  cried  Olaf.  "Guns,  Colin,  guns!  Bears 
behind  the  ice!" 

Both  made  a  rush  to  the  tent,  shouting  "Bears!  bears!" 
Joseph  and  Reynolds  wriggled  out  of  their  bags,  but  only 
half-awake. 


A  NIGHT   OF  TERROR.  197 

"Now!"  cried  Mr.  Bruin,  "now!" 

Both  bears  bellowed.  It  was  a  roar  that  might  have 
dismayed  the  stoutest  heart.  It  struck  no  terror  to  Sigurd's, 
however.  The  she-bear  was  first,  and  he  hit  her  with  all 
his  force  on  the  forehead.  The  oar  snapped  in  twain.  He 
struck  her  again  with  the  part  he  still  retained.  Howling 
and  bleeding  she  sprang  at  him  in  desperation,  and  he  rolled 
beneath  the  boat's  side. 

Something  dark  goes  pattering  across  the  floe.  It  is 
Keltic,  and  like  a  tiny  fury  he  seized  the  great  he-bear's 
hind-foot.  Out  rushed  Colin  and  Olaf  with  their  rifles. 
Bruin  had  turned  round  to  lay  Keltic  dead  on  the  snow. 
But  Keltic  sprang  away  in  time,  and  next  moment  two 
bullets  from  Olaf 's  little  light  rifle  entered  the  bear's  chest 
behind  the  shoulder  and  stretched  him  dead  on  the  snow. 
Colin's  rifle  was  not  loaded. 

Sigurd,  however,  was  not  hurt;  he  drew  his  knife,  sprang 
to  his  feet,  and  struck  wildly  at  the  she-bear.  Ill,  indeed, 
would  Sigurd  have  fared  had  not  Colin  and  Olaf  seized  oars 
and  attacked  the  monster  from  the  rear.  She  wheeled  to 
defend  herself.  Caesar  had  attempted  to  catch  her  throat, 
but  failed.  Then  blow  after  blow  fell  on  her  head,  and 
Sigurd's  knife  tells  home  again  and  again. 

This  battle  with  the  bears  must  have  been  begun  and 
finished  in  less  than  two  minutes. 

No  one  thought  of  sleeping  any  more  that  night.  Where 
there  are  two  bears  there  may  be  twenty,  so  it  behoved 
them  to  be  on  their  guard. 

While  the  Lapp  boy  proceeded  to  whip  the  skin  off  the 
she-bear,  Olaf  knelt  down  in  the  snow  beside  Mr.  Bruin. 

"Sigurd!  Colin!  Reynolds!"  he  suddenly  shouted.  "Run, 
O,  run!  This  is  the  bear  that  slew  my  father!  Look  at 
the  scars— look,  look!  Say,  is  it  not  so,  Sigurd?  Speak, 
man,  speak!" 

Sigurd  slowly  examined  the  bear. 

"  It  would  really  seem  so,"  he  said. 

Then  Olaf  burst  into  tears,  but  only  for  a  few  moments. 
He  was  himself  again  very  soon. 

"Skin  him,  Sigurd,"  he  said,  "for  I  cannot." 


198         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

Now,  in  spite  of  even  Sigurd's  opinion,  I  think  it  highly 
improbable  that  this  was  the  bear  that  had  slain  Captain 
Kanna.  But  if  to  believe  so  made  Olaf  happy,  we  cannot 
begrudge  him  that  belief. 

The  storm-wind  continued  to  rage.  It  waxed  even  fiercer. 
The  noise  and  turmoil  among  the  floes  were  now  fearful. 
A  huge  corner  was  broken  off  from  the  camp-floe,  speedily 
smashed  to  atoms,  and  for  a  time  spray  and  slush  and  green 
boulders  were  hurled  high  into  the  air,  and  fell  on  the  tent 
and  on  the  boats.  Our  heroes  were  glad  to  seek  for  shelter 
beneath  the  canvas. 

But  this  wet  bombardment  ceased  after  a  time.  It  was 
evident,  however,  to  Reynolds  and  his  people  that  the  pre- 
sent position  was  no  longer  tenable.  They  must  endeavour 
to  reach  the  next  boulder,  above  whose  hummocks  the  bears' 
heads  had  first  been  seen.  This  was  not  only  much  larger 
but  much  stronger. 

So  the  tent  was  hurriedly  struck  and  folded,  and  in  five 
minutes'  time  the  first  boat  was  hauled  across  the  chasm  and 
placed  in  safety.  In  ten  minutes  both  boats  were  secured. 

But  there  were  still  some  little  odds  and  ends  to  be 
gathered  off  the  smaller  floe,  and  these  Sigurd  and  the 
Lapp  were  picking  up  while  Reynolds  stood  near  them,  the 
two  dogs  being  apparently  very  interested  spectators. 

The  flush  of  coming  day  was  already  gradually  spreading 
itself  over  the  eastern  sky.  The  dawn  and  the  moonlight 
seemed  struggling  for  the  mastery.  Reynolds'  eyes  were 
turned  towards  the  hills  of  the  west,  and  he  was  longing  to 
be  over  or  on  the  great  inland  ice,  when  suddenly  there  was 
a  report  like  that  of  a  heavy  piece  of  ordnance.  The  smaller 
floe  had  split  into  three  pieces ! 

O,  the  terror  and  the  turmoil  of  the  next  few  minutes! 
Those  on  the  larger  ice-floe  knew  well  that  their  friends 
were  engulphed,  but  for  some  time  they  were  powerless  to 
act  or  move,  being  half-drowned  in  the  drenching  spray. 

Joseph  was  perhaps  the  first  to  regain  presence  of  mind. 
"Get  out  the  ropes,  boys.  Steady,  lads,  steady!  Easily 
and  cheerily  does  it." 

The  ropes  were  speedily  hauled  out. 


A   NIGHT   OF  TERROR.  199 

Down  yonder  was  something  struggling  in  the  spume  and 
slush.  So  a  rope  was  thrown  in  that  direction,  and  Reynolds 
himself,  nearly  half-dead  apparently,  was  brought  to  bank. 
Sigurd  was  bearing  up  manfully.  He  was  clinging  to  a 
green  lump  of  ice,  but  rising  and  falling,  and  in  danger 
every  moment  of  being  killed  by  the  dashing  ice. 

The  Lapp  boy  was  nearer  the  berg.  He  caught  the  rope 
thrown  to  Sigurd.  Would  he  save  himself  and  leave  his 
friend  probably  to  suffer  a  fearful  death?  No,  to  his  credit 
and  honour, — no. 

He  swam,  or  rather  wriggled,  back  through  the  slush,  and 
handed  Sigurd  the  rope.  It  broke  just  as  they  were  on  the 
point  of  being  pulled  on  to  the  ice,  but  Joseph  had  caught 
Sigurd's  clothes  with  a  boat-hook,  and  soon  both  were  saved. 
But  where  were  Csesar  and  Keltic  1  A  question  not  difficult 
to  answer.  Keltic  had  somehow  managed  to  tell  Caesar  that 
he  (Keltie)  was  not  much  of  a  swimmer. 

"Get  on  my  back,  then,"  said  Csesar. 

Then  he  managed  to  scramble  on  to  one  of  the  largest 
pieces  of  the  wrecked  floe,  and  there  stood  barking  at  our 
friends,  who  were  all  safe  now  on  the  larger  one. 

"Wowff!  wowff!"  barked  Csesar.  "How  are  we  to  get 
over?"  As  he  spoke  he  shook  himself,  and  made  a  pretty 
moonlight  rainbow.  Then  he  pretended  he  was  going  to 
leap  into  the  cold,  slushy  water  again. 

"Back!"  shouted  Colin  in  terror;  "back,  Csesar,  back!" 

The  good  dog  obeyed. 

Then  Joseph,  as  quickly  as  possible,  with  Olafs  nimble 
assistance,  got  out  one  of  the  light  sledges.  When  a  portion 
of  the  tent  canvas  was  spread  in  the  bottom,  it  formed  a 
capital  gangway  or  bridge. 

Down  it  was  hauled,  and,  waiting  till  the  two  floes  came 
pretty  close,  the  temporary  bridge  was  quickly  run  across. 

The  grand  dog  understood  all.  He  gave  one  little  im- 
patient bark  as  he  looked  round  at  little  Keltie,  as  much  as 
to  say  "Come  on",  then  trotted  over,  followed  by  his 
friend. 

Only  just  in  time.  Away  slid  the  smaller  berg,  and  the 
end  of  the  bridge  dropped.  It  was  speedily  hauled  up. 


200          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

Next  minute  came  the  seventh  wave,  and  the  floes  came 
clashing  together  with  frightful  force.  Had  either  men  or 
dogs  been  then  in  the  water  they  would  have  been  crushed 
to  pulp.  Luckily  all  were  on  the  large  floe  and  safe.  The 
tent,  too,  was  up,  and  Colin  lit  the  lamp.  In  a  very  short 
time  Reynolds,  Sigurd,  and  Svolto  had  changed  their  gar- 
ments, and  were  drinking  warm  tea,  joined  by  their  com- 
panions. 

Then  the  sun  rose,  and  it  was  day  once  more. 

After  this  very  early  breakfast  everyone  felt  more  hearty 
and  quite  refreshed.  Had  there  been  any  more  dragging  to 
do  they  were  ready  for  work  at  once. 

Reynolds  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  hummock,  to  look 
around  him  and  consider  how  matters  stood.  Olaf  was  soon 
by  his  side,  for  he  had  become  very  fond  of  his  captain. 

"Look!"  said  the  latter,  "we  have  drifted  some  distance 
south,  but  not  as  far  as  I  expected.  And  now  you  will 
observe,  Olaf,  that  what  the  great  stranded  icebergs  told  me 
is  in  a  measure  true.  The  current  has  carried  our  heavier 
floes  past  most  of  that  horrid  pancake  part,  and  it  is  evident, 
too,  that  we  are  much  nearer  to  the  shore." 

"  I  can  see,"  said  Olaf,  looking  southwards,  "  that  we  will 
soon  float  past  that  pancake  sea,  for  it  ends  a  mile  or  two 
down  yonder." 

"  Yes,  and  there  is  the  open  water.  The  wind,  you  see, 
has  had  a  restraining  effect  upon  the  progress  south  of  that 
soft  sea  of  ice,  while  this  mill-stream  of  a  current  has  been 
swirling  us  along. 

"  There  is  every  probability,  however,  Olaf,  that  we  may 
come  into  collision  with  that  stranded  iceberg  yonder,  over 
which  the  waves  are  breaking  with  such  awful  fury." 

"And  if  so,  sir?" 

"Don't  talk  of  it,  my  friend.  It  is  too  dreadful  even  to 
contemplate.  Big  as  this  floe  is,  if  hurled  against  the  hard 
green  side  of  yonder  mountain  of  ice,  it  would  be  dashed  to 
pieces  in  an  instant.  Quick  would  be  our  death,  Olaf; 
speedy  the  end  of  our  little  expedition." 

To  the  extreme  satisfaction,  however,  of  everyone,  no 
sooner  had  the  floe  on  which  they  were  now  encamped 


SVOLTO   AND   HIS   HILL-FIEND.  201 

passed  the  edge  of  the  great  pancake  stream  than  it  swirled 
round  and  appeared  to  be  caught  in  a  reverse  current. 

No  wonder  that  all  hands  now  raised  such  a  joyous  shout; 
a  cheer  that  even  the  dogs  joined,  for  they  had  apparently 
but  to  get  the  boats  lowered,  and  in  an  hour  or  two  at  most 
they  would  be  safely  ashore  on  the  promised  land,  as  Captain 
Reynolds  called  it. 

So  ended  that  night  of  terror. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SVOLTO  AND  HIS   HILL-FIEND— A  QUEER  RACE  OF  SAVAGES. 

IT  was  not  till  after  three  hours  of  toilsome  rowing  and 
struggling  with  tides  and  currents  that  our  brave  ex- 
plorers found  themselves  standing  on  the  rocky  shores  of 
the  promised  land.  And  now,  once  more  the  cheering  was 
renewed,  for  all  were  happy  at  last. 

From  the  way  the  great  dog  Caesar  went  dashing  about, 
and  round  and  round,  it  was  pretty  evident  he  considered 
all  further  danger  was  now  at  an  end,  and  that  the  Granite 
City  and  his  cosy  home  in  Union  Street  were  only  just  a 
little  way  round  the  corner  of  the  rocky  hill.  Keltic  was  of 
precisely  the  same  opinion,  and  the  capers  and  antics  of  the 
pair  of  them  were  comical  in  the  extreme. 

The  promised  land1?  Yes,  it  was  the  promised  land;  but 
certainly  not  a  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey.  The  hills 
rose  high  and  rugged  behind  them,  but  it  was  a  pleasure  to 
see  grass  and  moss  growing  on  them,  heather  also,  and  many 
a  sweet  little  flower  that  is  met  with  in  the  Shetland  islands, 
in  Norway,  and  in  Scotland  itself.  ' 

The  sun  even  shone  warmly  against  the  rocks,  birds  of 
nearly  all  the  species  common  to  these  seas  and  lands  flew 
around  in  flocks  or  perched  upon  the  rocks.  The  din  and 
screaming  they  made  mingled  strangely  with  the  low  moan 
of  the  waves  breaking  upon  the  beach. 


202         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

Eastwards,  when  they  turned  their  eyes,  there  was  the 
dark  sea,  over  which  they  had  rowed,  with  many  a  floating 
white  floe  slowly  rising  and  falling  on  the  swell,  and  with 
seals  here  and  there  warming  themselves  in  the  sun's  bright 
rays.  Far  beyond  was  the  sea  of  ice  itself.  It  looked  cold 
and  drear  now,  and  Colin  and  Olaf  shuddered  as  they  thought 
of  the  dangers  they  had  passed  through  on  the  preceding 
night. 

A  flock  of  birds  flew  overhead  and  attracted  their  attention. 
Olaf  followed  them  with  his  eyes.  They  were  a  covey  of 
snipe  of  some  sort,  and  the  temptation  to  follow  them  was 
too  great  to  be  resisted.  They  had  settled  among  the  rocks 
not  a  great  way  off,  so  they  ran  back  for  a  couple  of  fowling- 
pieces  which  formed  part  of  the  equipment.  Olaf  also  carried 
his  rifle  slung  over  his  shoulder. 

"For,"  he  said,  "we  might  stumble  across  a  bear,  you 
know." 

They  saw  no  bears  that  day,  however;  but,  nevertheless 
they  returned  to  the  camp — the  tent  was  now  erected — with 
what  Sigurd  declared  was  an  excellent  bag,  namely,  five 
snipe  and  a  small  seal's  liver.  They  had  found  the  "drochie" 
sunning  itself  on  the  rocks,  had  stalked  and  killed  it,  though 
Colin  said  it  did  seem  a  pity  to  destroy  the  poor  little  fellow 
while  enjoying  his  seaside  holiday. 

The  snipe  were  skinned,  spitted,  and  cooked  along  with 
some  fat  bacon,  a  piece  of  the  seal's  liver,  and  some  biscuits 
and  vegetables.  The  whole  formed  a  most  delectable  Irish 
stew,  and,  washed  down  with  hot  coffee,  made  our  heroes 
feel  that  they  were  once  more  alive. 

Reynolds  resolved  to  stop  here  for  one  day  at  least,  to 
permit  his  people  to  enjoy  a  spell  of  much-needed  repose. 

After  breakfast — they  called  it  so  because  it  was  still  early 
in  the  forenoon — pipes  were  lit,  and  for  a  time  the  conversa- 
tion was  cheerful  and  animated.  One  by  one,  however,  they 
began  to  feel  drowsy,  and  a  general  call  was  made  for  the 
sleeping-bags.  It  was  so  warm  they  might  have  done  with- 
out these,  but  it  was  ever  so  much  more  cosy  with  them. 

Svolto  sat  down  on  a  high,  flat  rock  in  the  sun,  just  a 
little  way  above  the  tent.  It  was  his  sentry-go.  But  Caesar 


A  QUEER  RACE  OF  SAVAGES.  203 

and  Keltie  resolved  to  keep  him  company,  and  lay  down 
near  to  him. 

The  sun  was  shining  over  the  eastern  ice  when  our  heroes 
turned  in.  It  was  away  round  behind  the  hills  when  they 
turned  out  again.  And  all  this  time  Csesar  and  Keltie  had 
been  the  real  sentries,  for,  I  am  ashamed  to  say,  Svolto, 
overcome  with  fatigue,  was  guilty  of  the  heinous  crime  of 
going  to  sleep  on  duty.  He  did  so  most  deliberately  too. 
He  simply  whispered  a  few  words  in  the  Norse  language — 
which  he  felt  certain  the  dogs  understood — into  Caesar's  ear, 
and  then  curled  himself  up  beside  his  gun. 

"Wowff!" 

"Wiff!  wiff!  wiff!  wiff!" 

Svolto  started  to  his  feet,  rifle  in  hand.  There  was  never 
a  more  completely  wide-awake  Laplander  in  creation  than 
Svolto  was  at  that  moment.  Caesar's  hair  was  all  on  end. 
So,  too,  was  Keltie's. 

And  as  he  rubbed  his  eyes  Svolto  felt  certain  he  had  seen 
a  dark  little  figure,  somewhat  in  the  shape  of  a  human  being, 
disappearing  round  the  corner  of  a  distant  rock.  Svolto's 
hair  stood  on  end  next,  and  almost  lifted  his  fur  cap.  The 
poor  superstitious  boy  really  believed  he  had  seen  a  hill-fiend, 
bogey,  or  spirit  of  evil. 

The  camp  was  soon  all  astir  once  more,  and  Svolto  made  his 
report.  Reynolds  laughed  heartily  at  the  hill-fiend  notion. 

"  It  was  an  Eskimo  lad,"  he  said,  "  and  I  expect  they  have 
a  village  not  far  off.  We  shall  soon  see  more  of  them." 

I  think  that  the  Eskimos  found  on  this  coast,  and  around 
other  shores  in  Greenland,  are  about  the  most  harmless  little 
people  in  existence. 

If  Eskimos  have  never  seen  civilized  people  before,  they 
are  naturally  very  much  alarmed,  and  will  hide  in  the  holes 
of  the  rocks  or  scuttle  off  like  rabbits.  But  these  squat 
wee  men  and  women  are  not  difficult  to  tame,  and  soon 
become  very  friendly  indeed. 

The  secret  of  Svolto's  hill-fiend  was  not  cleared  up  that 
night,  for  although  Colin,  Olaf,  and  Reynolds  himself  made 
a  journey  round  the  shore  and  rocks  in  the  hopes  of  finding 


204          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

an  Eskimo  encampment,  they  could  discover  no  trace  of  such 
people,  nor  any  footmarks  on  the  beach. 

But  they  made  a  discovery  that  was  not  unimportant. 
They  found  out  that  the  land  on  which  they  had  camped 
was  in  reality  an  island,  though  divided  from  the  continent 
by  but  a  small  channel  of  water,  which  was  now  entirely 
covered  with  ice  and  snow. 

There  were  no  footprints  on  this  either,  so  Svolto's  little 
man  must  have  come  from  somewhere  or  other  in  a  kayak 
or  small  canoe.  They  were  obliged  to  be  satisfied  with  this 
supposition,  and  so  the  night  closed  quietly  in. 

Joseph  took  the  first  watch  that  night  and  Colin  the  middle. 
I  do  not  think  that  anything  could  have  induced  Svolto  to 
take  up  his  position  on  those  weird  gray  rocks  and  do 
sentry-go.  Of  ordinary  dangers  on  the  ice  or  elsewhere  he 
had  no  fear.  He  would  face  either  bladder-nose  seal  or  bear 
bravely,  even  cheerfully,  but  the  awful  little  figure  that  he 
had  seen  running  round  the  rocky  corner!  Ugh!  he  dared 
not  even  think  of  him. 

Joseph  came  to  call  Colin  a  little  after  twelve.  The 
young  man  required  no  second  bidding,  but  wriggled 
quickly  and  quietly  out  of  his  bag,  leaving  Olaf  sound 
asleep.  But  not  Caesar.  Caesar  had  been  in  the  sleeping- 
bag,  for  he  was  like  a  Christian  in  all  his  wise  ways,  but  he 
considered  now  that  it  was  his  duty  to  keep  watch  with 
Colin.  Keltic  had  been  with  Joe,  so  that  when  two  retired, 
a  man  and  a  dog,  another  man  and  dog  took  up  their  post 
on  the  rocks. 

A  whole  half  hour  passed  away,  during  which  time  Colin 
had  paced  briskly  to  and  fro  on  the  ledge  of  rock  to  keep 
himself  warm.  Csesar  had  a  far  cosier  coat  than  that  which 
his  master  wore,  and  so  could  curl  up  with  his  tail  under 
his  nose,  and  go  to  sleep,  though  with  one  ear  at  half- 
cock. 

The  sky  was  still  perfectly  clear,  the  stars  very  bright. 
So  near  at  hand  did  they  appear  that  it  seemed  almost 
possible  to  reach  them. 

How  still  it  was  now!  For  the  wind  had  sunk  entirely. 
There  were  the  mournful  boom  and  lapping  of  the  waves  on 


A  QUEER  RACE  OF  SAVAGES.  205 

the  dark  rocks,  and  now  and  then  a  plaintive  cry  as  of  some 
belated  night-bird ;  but  that  was  all.  By  and  by,  far  across 
the  ice-fields,  a  yellow  light  appeared  low  down  on  the 
eastern  sky,  and  soon  the  moon's  broad  rim  showed  up 
above  the  slowly-moving  hummocks. 

If  the  scene  had  been  impressive  before,  much  more  so 
was  it  now.  There  was  a  solemnity  about  it  which  is  in- 
describable, and  which  sank  deep  into  Colin's  heart.  His 
thoughts  were  drawn  from  earth  away.  For  all  around  him 
was  so  still,  so  lonesome  and  eerie.  His  sleeping  friends 
were  no  company  for  him,  not  even  the  sleeping  dog.  He 
was  more  really  alone  than  ever  he  had  felt  before  in  life. 
As  lonely  did  he  feel  as  though  he  had  been  the  last  man  on 
earth,  and  nothing  lived  below  but  he. 

Is  it  any  wonder  then  that,  under  such  circumstances,  on 
a  night  so  strangely  still,  and  amidst  scenery  so  weird  and 
wild,  his  thoughts  were  carried  far  above  the  twinkling 
stars  to  the  bright  sphere  where  angels  dwell,  and  all  is 
happiness  and  joy.  Just  then  he  remembered  that  he  had 
scarcely  said  his  prayers  that  night,  or  had  done  so  but 
hurriedly. 

And  so,  now,  he  knelt  beside  a  rocky  boulder,  and  some- 
how he  seemed  very  near  to  God,  and  felt  that  He  was  his 
friend;  the  friend  that  sticketh  closer  than  a  brother. 
Would  He  bless  and  prosper  their  little  expedition  ?  Colin 
fervently  prayed  that  He  might,  and  carry  them  safely 
through  every  danger  back  once  more  to  their  homes  in  far- 
off  Scotland.  Do  not  smile,  if  I  tell  you  that  in  this  prayer 
of  Colin's  he  included  even  the  dogs.  They  were  God's 
creatures;  He  had  made,  and  He  cared  for  them. 

Colin,  somehow,  felt  much  more  light-hearted  and  happy 
after  this.  He  even  began  to  sing.  A  song  could  not 
disturb  the  sleepers,  though  it  sounded  strange  among  these 
lonesome  hills.  But  it  mingled  with  Olaf's  dreams  and 
those  of  Rudland  Syrne.  It  carried  the  former  back  to  his 
bonnie  nor'land  home,  and  once  again  he  was  climbing  the 
hills  and  wandering  in  the  summer  woods  above  the  fjord. 
But  after  a  time  Rudland  awoke.  The  moonbeams  streamed 
through  the  crevices  in  the  tent  end  and  invited  him  out. 


206         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"Have  I  disturbed  you,  Rndland1?  It  was  so  foolish  of 
me  to  sing." 

"  Not  in  the  least,  Colin.  I  often  walk  abroad  at  night. 
And  on  such  a  night  as  this.  Why,  it  is  lovely !  heavenly ! " 

"Look,  look!"  he  continued,  grasping  Colin  by  the  arm 
and  pointing  hillwards.  "What  light  is  that?" 

"Why,  it  must  be  the  moon  shining  on  a  morsel  of 
quartz,"  said  Colin. 

"No,  no;  see,  it  moves,  and  now  it  has  disappeared  just 
beneath  that  dark  ledge." 

Colin  thought  of  Svolto's  hill-fiend.  Could  this  be  it? 
And  was  the  wild  creature  really  a  kind  of  brownie  or 
spunkie  after  all? 

"  Colin  M'lvor,  I'm  going  to  find  out  the  secret  of  that 
light." 

"But  you  cannot  go  alone,  and  I  dare  not  leave  my  post." 

"I  shall  go  alone.  I  like  adventures  by  night.  I  will 
take  my  gun  though." 

He  entered  the  tent  as  he  spoke,  and  presently  reappeared 
armed. 

Instead  of  following  along  the  rough  beach  towards  the 
distant  spot  where  the  light  had  disappeared,  he  kept  well 
out  of  the  moonlight,  and  sought  the  shadow  of  rock  and 
boulder  all  along.  In  time  he  came  to  a  brae  that  rose 
slantingly  up  from  the  beach.  It  was  white  with  flowering 
saxifrage  and  redolent  of  wild  thyme.  High  up  yonder 
rose  the  cliff,  and  very  soon  Rudland  was  at  the  foot  of  it. 
He  walked  quickly  all  round,  but  there  appeared  to  be  no 
opening  anywhere. 

He  was  about  to  give  up  the  search,  when  suddenly  there 
fell  upon  his  ear  the  sound  of  voices.  Soft  and  low  and 
musical,  but  human  nevertheless.  Then  a  bush  that  grew 
near  him  was  drawn  aside,  and  a  stream  of  light  shone  out. 
And  there,  close  to  him,  stood  Svolto's  little  man.  So  close 
that  Rudland  could  touch  him.  And  that  is  precisely  what 
he  did  do.  Nay,  more,  he  caught  him  by  the  shoulder.  The 
little  man  screamed  like  one  in  a  nightmare,  but  wriggled 
clear,  and  rushed  into  his  cave.  The  bold  doctor  followed. 

The  scene  presented  to  his  view  was  a  droll  one  in  the 


A  QUEER  RACE  OF  SAVAGES.          207 

extreme.  But  I  must  tell  you  that  Rudland  Syme,  although 
he  was  very  fond  of  anatomy,  and  said  to  be  a  most  careful 
student  of  his  "part"  or  portion  of  the  body  sold  to  him  to 
investigate  with  forceps  and  scalpel,  and  therefore  quite  at 
home  in  the  sickly  aroma  of  the  dissecting-room,  thought 
twice  before  venturing  into  this  cave. 

He  thought  twice,  and  then  sat  down  on  a  ledge  of  rock 
in  the  doorway.  Rudland  had  never  seen  a  real  live  Eskimo 
before  in  his  own  wild  home.  Here  were  over  a  dozen  of 
them  of  all  ages  and  sexes.  And  although,  from  an  ethno- 
logical point  of  view  the  sight  might  have  been  called  an 
interesting  and  instructive  one,  there  was  a  sad  absence 
of  romance  about  it. 

Two  huge  lamps  were  burning  in  the  cave — burning, 
smoking,  and  smelling  abominably;  a  small  dead  seal,  about 
half-devoured  and  almost  wholly  decayed,  lay  in  the  middle 
of  the  floor.  Round  about  were  benches,  and  on  these,  with 
hardly  a  stitch  of  clothing  on  them,  lay,  sweltering  as  if  in 
a  hot  bath,  the  ugly  little  Eskimos. 

Rudland's  bold  entrance  was  the  signal  for  a  general 
panic.  All  screamed  and  gibbered  at  him,  pointing  their 
dirty  fingers  towards  him,  and  repeating  over  and  over 
again  some  words  he  did  not  understand.  They  did  not 
scream  aloud,  however;  it  was  this  same  nightmarish  moan 
that  the  little  man  had  given  utterance  to  when  Rudland 
Syme  caught  him  by  the  shoulder. 

And  while  they  gibbered  and  screamed  like  owls,  they 
huddled,  one  on  top  of  the  other,  until  they  were  all  in  a 
heap  in  the  corner. 

The  doctor  tried  to  ingratiate  himself  by  grinning  and 
nodding,  but  for  a  time  with  no  result. 

Then  he  remembered  that  he  had  some  tobacco.  He  lit 
his  own  pipe,  and  began  to  smoke,  seeing  which  a  little  man 
approached  a  little  closer  and  began  to  sniff.  Rudland  gave 
him  a  little  screw  of  tobacco,  which  he  instantly  consigned  to 
his  mouth.  Rudland  gave  him  another  morsel.  That  also 
he  was  raising  to  his  mouth,  when  a  skinny,  naked,  and 
deformed  old  dwarf  snatched  it  from  him  as  cleverly  as  a 
monkey  would  have  done,  and  put  it  in  his  own. 


208          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

The  ice  was  broken.  Tobacco  did  it,  for  the  doctor  had 
enough  for  all  the  old  folks. 

It  was  evident  to  Rudland  Syme  that  these  were  all 
members  of  the  same  family,  and  that  this  cave  was  not 
their  real  home,  the  probability  being  that  they  were  here 
on  a  hunting  and  fishing  expedition.  But  as  conversation 
was  impossible,  after  nodding  and  grinning  again  and  again, 
the  visitor  took  his  departure  and  returned  to  camp  to  tell 
Colin  of  his  singular  adventure.  Then  he  went  back  to  bed. 

At  breakfast-time  next  day,  that  Eskimo  family  paid  a 
visit  to  the  camp,  and  although  there  was  not  much  to  give 
away,  still  the  strange  creatures'  had  a  bit  of  what  there 
was. 

Reynolds  was  glad  to  find  that  Sigurd  could  talk  their 
curious,  but  by  no  means  unmusical  language.  Much 
information  was  therefore  gleaned  from  them  concerning  the 
coast. 

Sigurd  found  out  that  farther  north  was  a  large  colony 
of  Eskimos,  who  lived  by  hunting  and  fishing,  and  had  large 
tents  and  many  fine  things,  and  that  this  colony  had  its  town 
or  village  at  the  top  of  a  fjord.  The  journey,  however, 
must  be  made  by  sea,  and  the  little  man  whom  Svolto  had 
mistaken  for  a  spirit  of  evil,  undertook  to  pilot  them  in  his 
kayak,  which  was  hidden  in  the  cave.  Svolto  was  not  even 
yet  very  sure  of  this  wee,  wee  man,  who  certainly  was  ugly 
enough  to  be  anything  belonging  either  to  this  world  or  a 
far  worse. 

The  camp,  therefore,  was  struck  that  day  at  ten  o'clock, 
and  everything  packed  once  more  on  board  the  boats. 

All  that  day  the  water  was  pretty  open,  and  as  the 
current  favoured  them,  they  made  excellent  progress,  and 
encamped  towards  evening  on  the  bare  rocks,  amidst  scenery 
of  the  most  savage  and  lonesome  character. 

Next  day  they  opened  up  the  fjord,  but  now  the  journey 
or  voyage  was  by  no  means  so  easy,  owing  to  the  packing 
of  the  ice  floes.  The  way  had  frequently  to  be  cleared  for 
the  boats  by  means  of  boat-hooks  and  oars.  Finally,  to- 
wards sunset,  tired  and  weary,  they  were  glad  to  seek  for 
rest  and  refuge  on  a  small  rocky  island  on  the  fjord,  where, 


A  QUEER  RACE  OF  SAVAGES.          209 

after  supper,  all  went  to  sleep  in  their  bags,  except  Olaf, 
whose  first  watch  it  was. 

During  the  night  their  little  guide  had  slipped  away  in 
his  kayak.  This  was  thought  somewhat  strange,  but  there 
was  no  chance  of  losing  their  way  in  the  fjord,  which  now 
got  narrower  and  narrower  every  mile,  the  rocks  rising 
directly  up  from  the  water,  the  air  crowded  with  myriads  of 
sea  and  land  birds. 

About  noon  they  reached  the  Eskimo  village,  behind 
which  rose,  steep  and  bare,  the  everlasting  hills  and  moun- 
tains, with  here  and  there  the  glittering  edge  of  a  glacier. 

They  now  found  out  the  reason  of  their  guide's  desertion. 
He  came  rushing  to  meet  the  wanderers  on  the  beach,  and 
told  Sigurd  he  had  gone  before  to  warn  the  villagers  of  the 
approach  of  the  strangers,  lest  they  should  be  afraid,  and 
hide  themselves  and  their  families  in  the  caves  and  under 
the  rocks. 

The  guide  had  certainly  spoken  in  glowing  terms  of  the 
kindness  and  liberality  of  our  heroes,  for  as  soon  as  the 
boats  were  hauled  up,  they  came  crowding  close  around; 
far  too  near,  indeed,  to  be  exactly  pleasant,  for,  as  Joseph 
told  Sigurd,  a  rose  by  almost  any  name  would  have  smelt 
quite  as  sweet. 

This  tribe  of  Eskimos  had  a  whole  pack  of  dogs.  By  no 
means  handsome  were  these,  and  as  wild  as  wolves.  When 
Caesar  landed  on  the  beach  amongst  these  curs,  towering 
like  a  veritable  canine  giant  high  above  them,  he  created 
quite  as  great  a  sensation  as  his  mighty  namesake  of  old 
must  have  done  among  the  ancient  Britons. 

First  and  foremost  they  yelped  in  terror  and  fled  in  all 
directions.  Then  they  barked  in  anger  and  defiance  at  a 
safe  distance.  Caesar  answered  with  a  ringing  "Wowff" 
or  two,  that  made  the  very  hills  resound,  and  struck  terror 
into  their  hearts.  Keltic  chimed  in  with  his  usual  "Wiff, 
wiff,  wiff,"  but  not  content  with  this,  he  charged  right  into 
the  centre  of  the  pack. 

Caesar,  afraid  his  friend  might  get  into  serious  trouble, 
for  his  die-hard  audacity  would  have  availed  but  little 
against  their  numbers,  dashed  in  to  his  relief,  and  a  fight 

(988)  O 


2iO  TO   GREENLAND   AND   THE   POLE. 

ensued  such  as  probably  had  never  been  known  in  Green- 
land before,  the  great  dog  seizing  the  Eskimo  dogs  one  by 
one  and  throwing  them  over  his  shoulder. 

He  soon  quelled  the  riot.  But  poor  little  Keltic  was 
dead  apparently.  When,  however,  Olaf  bent  over  him 
almost  crying,  and  Colin  made  the  remark  that  they  would 
have  to  bury  him  on  the  beach,  then  Keltic  found  it  in- 
cumbent on  him  to  open  his  left  eye.  His  right  eye  was 
full  of  blood. 

"Why,  the  doggie  isn't  dead!"  cried  Colin. 

"  Not  yet,"  said  Keltic,  trying  to  rise. 

Then  he  was  given  into  the  charge  of  Caesar,  and  that 
noble  fellow  lay  down  beside  him  in  the  sunshine,  and  soon 
succeeded  in  licking  his  little  friend  back  to  life  once  more. 

It  was  soon  evident  enough  to  our  heroes,  that  although 
the  Eskimo  who  had  guided  them  to  this  village  was  small 
in  stature,  and  he  certainly  was  no  Goliath  of  Gath,  he 
possessed  mental  qualities  that  enabled  him  to  rule  among 
these  simple  and  good-natured  savages  as  a  kind  of  chief. 
I  must  not  say  "  king ",  because  kings  are  practically  un- 
known in  this  part  of  the  world.  Tittlo  Moko — that  was 
the  chief's  name — had  said  that  the  strangers  could  be 
trusted — trusted  they  therefore  were.  And  there  was 
nothing  half-hearted  about  this  trustfulness  on  the  part  of 
the  Eskimos.  They  literally  received  the  explorers  with 
open  arms.  No;  I  will  not  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  anyone 
took  advantage  of  such  proffered  embraces.  The  temptation 
was  not  sufficiently  strong. 

Were  they  all  very  small,  all  very  ugly,  all  very  black, 
and  all  very  dirty?  These  questions  from  my  readers,  I 
think  I  hear  ringing  in  my  ears.  I  will  answer  them  as 
briefly  as  I  can.  As  for  size,  they  were  certainly  not 
dwarfs,  but  they  were  of  low  stature,  and  the  men  were 
squat.  Their  dress,  probably,  contributed  in  no  small 
degree  to  their  squatness.  A  skin  or  fur  cap,  a  kind  of 
skin  jersey,  skin  breeches,  and  boots  of  the  same  material 
that  came  up  nearly  to  the  knees,  in  many  cases  above,  and 
were  somewhat  of  the  pattern  of  those  used  by  fox-hunters, 
or  by  our  grandfathers  in  days  of  old. 


A  QUEER  RACE  OF  SAVAGES.  211 

Yes,  the  girls  and  women  dressed  the  same — "rational 
dress"  I  believe  they  term  it  in  this  country — with  this 
simple  difference,  that  the  females  wore  a  tiny  apron  that 
a  Highlander  might  have  worn  on  his  kilt  if  unfortunate 
enough  to  lose  his  sporran.  But  the  girls  showed  more 
taste  as  to  their  boots  than  the  men,  and  had  them  neatly 
embroidered  with  tiny  morsels  of  coloured  skin.  These, 
too,  as  a  rule  went  bare-headed,  their  hair  being  done  up  in 
a  fashionable  dome  on  top  of  the  head.  This  dome  of  hair 
had  a  kind  of  rake  aft,  and  was  not  unbecoming. 

As  to  appearance,  the  men  were  no  beauties;  the  older 
women  were  hags  as  a  rule,  and  some  were  exceedingly  fat. 
But  a  few  of  the  girls — it  was  Olaf  who  found  this  out — 
were  both  modest-looking  and  pretty.  As  for  being  black, 
they  were  nothing  of  the  sort.  Their  skins  were  of  a  lightish 
bronze. 

No,  they  were  not  all  very  dirty;  in  face  the  girls 
would  have  passed  for  clean  in  some  country  villages  that 
I  know  of.  As  for  the  women  and  men — well,  the  only 
ablution  they  ever  submit  to  is  that  from  a  shower  of  rain, 
while  hailstones,  I  suppose,  would  cause  them  to  look  a 
little  spotty.  The  children,  not  to  mince  matters,  looked 
as  if  they  had  swam  in  a  sewer  then  dried  themselves  in  the 
sun.  But  if  they  did  not  use  water,  they  make  up  for  it  by 
rubbing  their  faces  with  train  oil. 

Reynolds  walked  towards  the  village  accompanied  by 
probably  all  the  inhabitants  thereof.  But  they  were  by  no 
means  noisy  or  offensive  in  their  attentions. 

The  tents  were  made  of  skins.  Inside  were  the  usual 
rows  of  benches  on  which  several  families  could  squat,  the 
dividing  partitions  not  being  so  high  as  those  in  a  large 
dog-kennel.  Each  family  bench  had  its  own  pan  of  oil 
burning  near  it.  Dried  seal  meat  and  fish  they  had  in 
common,  and  many  other  comforts. 

Sigurd  was  told  by  the  guide  that  they  used  these  skin- 
tents  in  summer,  but  during  winter  turned  over  to  snow- 
igloos.  These  snow-houses  are  by  no  means  uncomfortable 
if  well  built,  and  they  are  warmer  far  than  the  name  seems 
to  indicate. 


212          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

I  would  not  call  these  Eskimos  savages.  They  are 
really  very  peaceably  inclined,  and  compare  favourably  with 
civilized  nations  in  some  ways,  for  I  have  never  heard  of 
murders  among  them,  nor  any  other  fearful  crime. 

Reynolds  and  his  people  were  looked  upon  as  the  greatest 
curiosities.  They  were  examined  all  over  and  commented 
on,  especially  by  the  ladies  of  the  village.  Their  dress 
excited  much  interest,  and  a  good  deal  of  mirth. 

"Colin,"  cried  Olaf  that  day  after  dinner,  "I've  made 
quite  a  conquest.  This  girl,  I  believe,  has  fallen  in  love 
with  me." 

He  was  sitting  on  a  rock,  and  she  stood  near  him. 

"Isn't  she  pretty  1"  he  asked.     "I  call  her  a  poem." 

"  Well,  if  she  had  a  Turkish  bath  and  a  suit  of  decent 
clothes  she  might  pass  muster  on  a  market-day." 

"Colin,  there  is  a  lack  of  ' romancesomeness '  about  you 
that  at  times  is  to  be  deplored." 

"Shooe-a-leig-a!"  cried  the  girl,  suddenly  thrusting  the 
points  of  her  dirty  fingers  right  into  Olaf  s  eyes.  Then  she 
ran  away  laughing,  and  the  "  romancesomeness  "  was  all  at 
an  end. 

Sigurd  told  Olaf  that  the  girl  didn't  believe  those  very 
blue  eyes  of  his  were  real,  and  she  merely  wanted  to  prove 
whether  they  were  so  or  not. 

"  Eeal  or  not,"  said  Olaf,  "  she  has  pretty  nearly  gouged 
them  out." 

"  That  is  precisely  what  she  hoped  to  do,  I  believe,  Olaf," 
said  Colin.  "  She  thought  they  were  pebbles;  and,  come  to 
consider  it,  they  don't  look  unlike  pebbles.  Had  she  been 
successful,  she  would  have  strung  them  on  a  bit  of  skin  and 
worn  them  round  her  neck  as  a  charm." 

Well,  the  curiosity  of  the  Eskimos,  it  will  be  perceived, 
really  knew  no  bounds.  Nothing  that  the  explorers  did 
escaped  their  notice,  and  everything  was  freely  commented 
on  and  laughed  over. 

Reynolds  was  sorry  he  had  so  little  to  give  them.  Not 
that  they  were  greedy  by  any  means.  They  were  so  good- 
natured,  that  they  would  have  parted  with  anything  they 
possessed  and  demanded  nothing  in  return. 


A   QUEER  RACE  OF   SAVAGES.  213 

Even  tobacco  was  scarce  with  the  explorers,  but  they 
distributed  to  the  older  men  all  they  could  spare,  and  before 
they  left  this  encampment  entirely,  Olaf  hit  upon  a  capital 
plan  to  reward  them  for  their  kindly  hospitality.  He  cut 
off  three  or  four  buttons  from  his  own  dress,  and  everyone 
else  did  the  same.  There  always  are  a  few  buttons  on 
one's  clothes  that  can  be  spared,  and  it  was  these  that  Olaf 
requisitioned.  Then  he  distributed  them  among  the  ladies 
of  the  tribe — I  might  have  said  "  fair  sex  "  instead  of  ladies, 
but  that  would  be  cruelly  sarcastic. 

But  there  was  a  good  deal  to  be  learned  from  even  these 
Eskimos,  especially  in  the  matter  of  boating  and  fishing; 
and,  as  Reynolds  was  very  busy  taking  notes  and  observa- 
tions, which  he  meant  to  publish  on  his  return,  he  agreed 
with  Joseph  and  the  rest  that  it  would  be  well  to  stay  on 
here  for  some  days. 

There  were  large  skin  boats  called  "  amyaks  "  and  smaller 
called  "  kayaks  ".  The  syllable  "  yak  "  ends  so  many  Eskimo 
words  that  Peterhead  whalers  call  the  Eskimos  "  Yaks ". 
At  least,  I  am  of  opinion  that  it  was  in  this  way  that  the 
name  originated. 

Olaf  and  his  belle  had  made  it  up,  and  renewed  their 
"romancesomeness",  our  hero  first  and  foremost  stipulating, 
through  the  medium  of  the  interpreter  Sigurd,  that  she  must 
not  poke  any  more  fingers  in  his  eyes.  To  this  stipulation 
she  quickly  consented,  arid  seemed  glad  to  be  forgiven. 

Then  the  pair  went  on  the  ice  together,  dragging  with 
them  a  couple  of  light  kayaks.  The  girl,  first  and  foremost, 
gave  an  exhibition  of  her  skill,  and  for  one  so  young  it  was 
really  marvellous.  She  looked  like  a  skip-jack  on  the  water, 
and  it  appeared  to  be  all  so  easy  too. 

At  last  Olaf  ventured  on  board  his,  which  his  inamorata 
did  her  best  to  hold  steady  for  him.  The  sensation  of 
boarding  one  of  these  skiffs  is  somewhat  similar  to  that  of 
getting  on  a  safety  bicycle  for  the  first  time,  only,  of  course, 
the  danger  is  much  greater,  but  like  the  safety,  if  you  want 
the  kayak  to  go  one  way,  it  is  bound  to  go  the  other,  like 
Paddy's  pig;  then,  again,  if  you  find  yourself  going,  you  are 
nearly  certain  to  lean  heavily  to  the  side,  and  that  ensures 


214         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

you  having  a  spill.  Well,  a  spill  from  a  cycle  may  mean 
merely  a  bruise  or  a  shake,  but  a  spill  from  a  kayak  in  the 
Greenland  seas  means  not  only  a  bath  at  a  very  low  tem- 
perature, with  a  gallon,  more  or  less,  of  salt  water  down 
your  throat,  but  the  danger  of  your  becoming  food  for  some 
roving  shark. 

Olaf  s  sweetheart,  whom  he  had  named  Heather  Bloom, 
kept  his  kayak  on  a  level  keel  for  a  time,  then  she  let  go, 
and  Olaf  began  to  paddle,  and  paddle,  and  paddle. 

"Why,"  he  said  to  himself,  "it  is  as  simple  as — 

He  was  going  to  say  skilobning,  but  he  never  finished  the 
sentence.  He  was  engulfed.  He  stuck  to  the  paddle.  The 
kayak  stuck  to  him. 

Had  not  Heather  Bloom  speedily  come  to  his  assistance 
and  helped  to  right  him  and  the  kayak,  Olaf  would  have 
dropped  out  of  my  story  just  here.  After  the  recovery  of 
his  body  I  should  have  had  to  dig  a  grave  for  him  by  the 
sad  sea  wave,  and  the  natives  would  have  had  his  kayak 
buried  with  him,  perhaps.  Perhaps  not,  for  I  am  sorry  to 
say  that  though  a  superstitious  people,  the  Eskimos — at 
least  this  colony — have  no  form  of  worship,  unless  it  be 
salaaming  sometimes  to  the  sun  in  early  summer,  going 
crawling  towards  it,  over  the  snow,  with  their  heads  upon 
the  ground. 

Colin  did  not  trust  himself  in  a  kayak.  You  see,  he  had 
no  Heather  Bloom  to  take  him  in  tow  or  in  charge.  But  in 
three  days'  time  Olaf  became  a  fairly  good  if  not  an  accom- 
plished "  kayakist".  Kayakist  is  a  new  word;  it  is  not  over- 
euphonious,  but  any  lexicographer  is  welcome  to  it. 

One  morning  Reynolds,  having  seen  all  he  could  see,  and 
written  all  he  could  write,  gave  the  order  for  the  start.  The 
day  before  had  been  spent  in  getting  everything  in  order  for 
the  long  and  dangerous  journey  across  Greenland  to  Disko 
Bay.  In  the  afternoon  a  general  inspection  had  taken  place, 
and  Reynolds  gave  the  members  of  his  expedition  great 
praise  for  the  thorough  cleanliness  of  all  the  traps,  includ- 
ing skier  and  sledges  and  scientific  instruments. 

Olaf  declared  that  there  were  tears  in  the  eyes  of  Heather 
Bloom  when  he  bade  her  good-bye  and  gave  her  a  button. 


THE  DISMAL  PRAIRIE   OF  VIRGIN   SNOW.  215 

The  button,  he  asked  Sigurd,  to  explain  was  a  token  of 
betrothal;  she  was  to  be  as  good  as  she  could  be,  and  to 
wait  till  he  came  back  to  marry  her. 

"  Well,"  said  Sigurd  in  English,  "  I  fear  me,  Master  Olaf, 
she  will  have  to  wait  a  big  time." 

"That's  where  the  ' romancesomeness '  comes  in,"  said 
Olaf. 

I  fear  Olaf  was  somewhat  of  a  flirt. 

"  Men,"  cried  Reynolds,  pointing  to  the  hills,  "  yonder  lies 
our  route!  Westward,  ho!" 

His  people  cheered.  The  Eskimos  joined  feebly.  Their 
cheer  was  like  the  lament  of  a  dozen  Dorking  hens  on  a 
rainy  day,  a  sound  that  was  mournful,  almost  oppressive. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  DISMAL  PRAIRIE   OF  VIRGIN   SNOW 

"\T7ITH  many  a  kindly  "good-bye"  to  those  East-coast 
VV  Eskimos  that  all  knew  they  should  never,  never  see 
again,  they  started  to  climb  the  steep  hill  that  lay  in  front 
of  them. 

The  men,  however,  gave  most  material  assistance  now. 
They  hanled  the  sledges,  in  fact  they  almost  carried  them 
up  the  first  hill,  which  was  nearly  a  thousand  feet  in  height. 
Indeed,  so  good-natured  were  these  poor  fellows  that  they 
would  have  carried  Reynolds  himself  and  his  merry  men  as 
well  had  they  been  invited  to  do  so. 

Climbing  the  high  hill  brought  them  on  a  sort  of  table- 
land, which  went  stretching  away  northwards  until  bounded 
by  a  steep  cliff,  that  must  have  been  at  least  five  hundred 
feet  in  height.  The  snow  on  the  table-land  was  somewhat 
soft,  and,  believing  that  it  would  be  firmer  higher  up,  Rey- 
nolds determined  to  gain  the  top  of  the  cliff. 

The  Eskimos  gladly  accompanied  them,  and  showed  such 
wonderful  agility  among  the  slippery  rocks,  that  in  two 


216          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

hours'  time  all  were  landed  on  the  cliff-top.  There  were 
higher  hills  still,  far  away  to  the  north,  or  rather  what 
appeared  to  be,  but  viewed  through  the  lorgnettes  they 
were  seen  to  be  very  distant  mountain-tops  rising  over  the 
vast  prairie-land  of  snow  that  went  stretching  away  and 
away  towards  the  west  and  the  nor'ard,  until  bounded  by 
the  blue  indistinct  lines  of  the  horizon. 

"Thank  them  once  more  kindly,"  said  Reynolds  to 
Sigurd,  "  and  tell  the  little  man  who  guided  us  from  the 
southern  island  that  if  we  are  not  driven  back  by  force  of 
circumstances  the  boats  we  have  left  will  belong  to  him  and 
his  people." 

So  away  went  the  Eskimos,  and  after  taking  one  last 
look  at  the  splendid  panorama  along  the  east  coast  that  lay 
far  down  at  their  feet — the  white  field  of  ice,  the  dark-blue 
open  sea,  the  bluer  sky,  with  many  a  fleecy  cloud  floating 
low  on  the  horizon,  and  nearer  still,  the  gray  rocks,  the 
flowery  banks,  and  the  tents  of  the  encampment — the  ex- 
plorers set  their  faces  towards  the  west.  Caesar  and  Keltic 
gave  a  joyous  bark  or  two,  and  away  they  trudged. 

After  an  hour's  work  hauling  over  the  snow — and  hard 
uphill  work  it  was — Reynolds  called  a  halt,  and  prepara- 
tions for  the  evening's  meal  and  night's  bivouac  were  at 
once  commenced. 

"  I  only  wanted,"  he  said,  "  to  feel  that  we  really  had 
made  a  start,  else  I  should  have  encamped  nearer  to  the  sea." 

They  had,  as  the  barometer  told  them,  reached  an  altitude 
of  2500  feet  above  the  sea-level,  and  although  the  ice  had 
been  fairly  good  all  the  way,  not  having  been  used  to  wear- 
ing skier  for  some  time,  Joseph  and  Rudland  found  their 
ankles  and  insteps  rather  painful  and  stiff.  Reynolds  him- 
self felt  tired,  though  he  kept  the  fact  to  himself. 

What  a  delight  it  was  to  get  inside  the  tent  now  and  to 
sit  down  to  their  frugal  supper,  washed  down  by  those  warm 
and  soul-comforting  cups  of  tea! 

After  supper,  leaving  the  smokers  to  smoke,  Colin  and 
Olaf,  who  had  not  yet  given  themselves  up  to  the  unnecessary 
slavery  of  tobacco,  walked  out  to  look  at  the  night.  It  was 
indeed  a  lovely  one  The  whole  of  the  west  was  lit  up  with 


THE   DISMAL  PRAIRIE   OF  VIRGIN   SNOW.  217 

the  most  brilliant  of  clouds,  where  the  sun  had  just  gone 
down.  On  the  mountain-tops,  far  to  the  north,  and  whose 
summits  were  clad  in  virgin  snow,  his  last  rays  still  lingered 
in  tints  of  pink  and  grayish-blue.  Snow-stars  still  sparkled 
like  diamonds  on  the  white  prairie  around  them;  but  beau- 
tiful and  weird  though  the  whole  scene  was,  there  was  a 
dreary  lonesomeness  about  it  that  somehow  seemed  to  clutch 
at  our  young  heroes'  very  hearts,  and  kept  them  silent  for 
a  time. 

There  was  a  stillness,  too,  all  around  them  that  was  most 
impressive.  It  was  the  silence  almost  of  space  itself,  for 
to-night,  high  above  the  sea  though  they  were,  not  a  breath 
of  wind  was  blowing,  and  they  seemed  to  stand  in  the  very 
centre  of  a  world  that  was  dead  and  buried. 

Presently  Olaf  threw  himself  on  the  snow,  and  Colin 
followed  his  example.  Both  were  tired,  though  neither 
complained.  Before  they  had  lain  here  long,  Caesar  came 
trotting  up,  and  with  him  little  Keltic,  the  die-hard1  terrier. 
Caesar  lay  down  beside  Colin,  and  placed  his  great  head 
across  his  master's  chest.  Keltie  felt  more  inclined  for  a 
scamper,  but  for  a  time  the  Newfoundland  could  not  be 
induced  to  play.  So  Keltie  set  himself  to  gnaw  his  gigantic 
friend's  ears,  and  finally  commenced  to  worry  his  shaggy 
tail.  Caesar  bore  this  treatment  patiently  enough  for  a 
time;  then  he  tossed  his  head  and  gave  voice  to  a  little  im- 
patient bark. 

"0,  bother!"  he  seemed  to  say,  "I  suppose  I  really  must 
go  for  a  run  with  the  little  varmint;  he'll  give  me  no  peace 
till  I  do." 

So  off  went  the  two  friends  together.  As  there  was  no 
chance  of  their  losing  themselves,  neither  Colin  nor  Olaf 
took  any  heed  of  their  gambols  and  antics,  for  they  had 
begun  to  talk  about  home,  and  the  friends  they  had  left  in 
bonnie  Scotland. 

It  was  almost  twilight— and  the  short  night  was  now 
nearly  all  twilight — when  back  rushed  Caesar  all  by  him- 
self. He  appeared  to  be  quite  overcome  by  grief  and  excite- 

i  The  wiry-haired  pricked-eared  terriers  of  Scotland  are  so  called,  and  right 
well  are  they  named. 


218          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

ment.  He  pulled  and  tugged  at  Colin's  jacket,  then  the 
terrible  truth  flashed  upon  both  Olaf  and  his  friend  at  the 
same  time. 

"0,  poor  little  Keltie!"  cried  Colin;  "the  crevasse!" 

"The  crevasse! — yes,"  said  Olaf;  "we  shall  never  see 
Keltic  again." 

"Wowff,  wowff !"  barked  Caesar  impatiently.  Can  nothing 
be  done  ?  The  dog  led  the  way  far  over  the  prairie  of  snow. 

They  had  not  come  out  without  their  safety  ropes,  which 
were  tied  to  the  waist  of  each,  so  that  if  one  fell  down  a 
crevasse  or  crack  in  the  snow-clad  glacier,  the  other  could 
support  him  and  drag  him  up. 

So  while  Colin  stood  well  back,  keeping  the  rope  just  taut, 
Olaf,  being  the  lighter,  crept  on  hands  and  knees  toward  the 
crevasse  that  Caesar  had  led  them  to,  and  peered  cautiously 
over  into  the  terrible  darkness  far  beneath. 

He  could  see  nothing.  He  listened  after  calling  Keltie  by 
name,  but  nothing  could  he  hear. 

Then  he  gathered  himself  up  and  retired. 

"Dead!  Poor  Keltie!"  That  is  all  he  said,  and  all  he 
could  say  for  the  rising  tears,  and  a  lump  in  his  throat  that 
nearly  choked  him.  Keltie  was  a  favourite  with  everyone, 
and  his  untimely  end  cast  a  gloom  over  the  camp  that  night, 
which  nothing  could  dispel.  Svolto's  grief,  however,  was 
greater  than  that  of  anyone  else.  He  seemed  perfectly 
heart-broken,  and  took  no  pains  to  hide  his  tears.  He  had 
indeed  lost  a  friend  as  well  as  a  little  bed-fellow. 

But  all  retired  to  their  bags  at  last. 

As  bears  might  follow  the  expedition,  it  was  considered 
necessary  to  have  sentries  set.  Joseph  took  watch  till 
twelve,  and  then  Colin  came  on.  It  might  have  been  about 
one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  the  sky  was  very  clear  and 
starry,  when  Colin  took  notice  of  a  little  black  dot  rapidly 
approaching  the  camp  across  the  white  field  of  snow. 

The  light  that  the  stars  gave,  and  the  gleam  of  white 
from  the  glacier  were  somewhat  puzzling,  and  for  a  time 
Colin  could  not  make  out  whether  that  black  spot  was  some- 
thing very  large  at  a  distance,  or  something  small  close  at 
hand. 


THE   DISMAL   PRAIRIE   OF  VIRGIN   SNOW.  219 

Keltic  himself  soon  solved  the  problem  by  jumping  right 
up  into  the  sentry's  arms.  Yes,  it  was  he !  But  how  had 
he  escaped?  That  was  a  question  to  which  Colin,  for  the 
time  being,  could  frame  no  correct  answer. 

Meanwhile,  he  took  the  wee  "die-hard"  up  in  his  arms, 
and  fondled  him  for  a  time,  then,  still  carrying  him,  he  quietly 
entered  the  tent  and  groped  about  for  a  morsel  of  cheese 
and  a  crust  of  bread.  Keltic,  he  thought,  must  be  hungry 
after  his  strange  adventure.  Keltic  was,  and  he  greedily 
devoured  all  that  was  presented  to  him. 

Then  Colin  went  softly  towards  the  bag  where  Svolto  lay 
sleeping  sound,  with  his  back  to  Sigurd,  and  placed  the 
doggie  in  his  arms. 

Olaf  came  to  relieve  his  friend  at  four  o'clock,  and  was 
told  of  Keltic's  return.  He  was  of  course  overjoyed 

"What  will  Svolto  say  when  he  awakes?" 

"Ah,  that  is  the  cream  of  the  entertainment!"  said  Colin. 
"We  will  see." 

Then  Colin  turned  in. 

All  hands  were  out  of  their  bags  by  seven  in  the  morning, 
except  Svolto.  The  Lapp  lad  took  quite  a  deal  of  rousing  as 
a  rule.  Of  course  everybody  was  told  the  wonderful  story 
of  Keltic's  resurrection,  and  Reynolds,  thinking  Colin  was 
only  joking,  could  not  be  convinced  until  he  had  peeped 
into  Svolto's  bag,  and  seen  Keltic's  saucy,  little  gray  head 
for  himself. 

"Rouse  out  there,  you  lazy  loon!"  cried  Reynolds. 

The  Lapp  lad  always  obeyed  the  master's  voice.  He 
crept  forth,  Keltie  wriggling  out  first.  Then,  indeed,  that 
boy's  face  was  a  study.  His  eyes  were  as  big  as  florins,  and 
about  the  same  shape  and  colour,  his  mouth  as  large  as  the 
hole  in  a  letter-box.  Then  he  laughed,  guffawed  rather, 
picked  Keltie  up  and  kissed  him  all  along  his  back. 

"  Had  such  an  awful  dream !"  he  said.  "  But  dreams  come 
true  sometimes.  We  must  tie  up  Keltie.  Keltie  mustn't 
fall  into  an  ice-crack  again." 

Once  more  nearly  ready  for  the  start,  Colin  soon  dis- 
covered that  Keltic's  footsteps  came  from  the  north-east; 
that  is,  from  the  direction  of  the  high  ground  on  the  right. 


220          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

Now,  the  cracks  or  crevasses  trended  in  that  direction, 
thus  crossing  the  line  of  march  at  right  angles,  and  it  was 
evident  that  the  awful  crevasse  into  which  Keltic  had  fallen 
grew  less  and  less  deep  as  it  neared  the  mountain,  until 
finally  it  was  so  shallow  that  he  could  leap  up.  Instinct  or 
reason  had  told  the  dog  this. 

Not  only  Keltic,  but  Caesar  also  was  now  taken  in  a  long 
leash,  yet  for  days  and  days  after  this  the  little  animal 
trembled  visibly  whenever  he  came  near  to  a  crevasse,  while 
Caesar  went  bounding  over. 

Before  commencing  the  journey  again  after  dinner,  Rey- 
nolds spread  the  map  before  his  people,  and  in  pencil  traced 
out  thereon  the  probable  line  of  march  from  the  fjord,  some- 
what to  the  south  of  Cape  Dan,  straight  away  to  Christian- 
shaab  or  Disko  Bay. 

He  drew  the  route  as  straight  as  he  could,  though  there 
was  very  little  chance,  indeed,  of  their  being  able  to  follow 
so  direct  a  course,  even  if  they  were  not  compelled  to  put 
back  entirely  from  causes  now  unseen. 

"  At  the  very  shortest,  my  friends,"  Reynolds  said,  "  it  will 
take  us  fully  five-and- twenty  days;  but  we  have  provisions 
for  three  months,  so,  God  guiding  us  safely  on,  I  think  we 
need  not  despair." 

As  to  provisions,  they  would  live  for  several  days  on  the 
cured  seal  meat  and  fish  they  had  taken  from  the  coast — 
gifts  from  their  kindly  friends  the  Eskimos.  There  was  no 
danger  of  these  going  bad  in  the  extreme  cold  of  the  high 
altitude  they  had  already  reached. 

It  was  still  early  in  the  season,  the  time  being  the  21st  of 
July.  Ten  days  yet  of  this  month  to  go,  and  all  the  month 
of  August,  —  the  middle  of  which  Reynolds  felt  almost 
certain  would  find  them  safe  and  sound  on  the  west  coast 
somewhere,  and  at  some  semi-civilized  place. 

They  were  as  tired  the  second  evening  as  they  had  been 
the  night  before,  and  still  more  tired  on  the  third,  for  their 
path  still  lay  upwards.  The  crevasses  were  very  frequent, 
and  sometimes  the  surface  of  the  glacier  so  uneven  that  it 
looked  like  a  vast  ocean  of  snow,  wave  succeeding  wave  at 
regular  intervals. 


THE   DISMAL   PRAIRIE   OF  VIRGIN   SNOW.  221 

At  times,  too,  they  came  upon  places  where  these  terrible 
crevasses  not  only  traversed  the  line  of  route,  but  ran  in  a 
contrary  direction  also. 

Some  parts  of  the  country  indeed,  that  is,  some  parts  of 
this  mighty  glacier,  looked  as  if  they  had  been  subjected  to 
the  force  of  an  earthquake,  or  had  been  rent  in  all  directions 
by  suddenly  giving  way  and  slipping  forward.  The  march, 
when  places  like  these  were  encountered,  was  considerably 
delayed,  for  they  found  they  could  not  pass,  and  had  to 
return  to  seek  farther  north  or  farther  south  a  more  easy 
route. 

In  all  directions  the  peaks  of  buried  mountains  peeped  up- 
wards over  the  dismal  prairie  of  virgin  snow,  thus  giving  to 
the  icescape  a  peculiar  characteristic. 

Reynolds,  Colin,  and  Olaf  kept  each  a  diary.  Well,  it  is 
hard  work  keeping  up  a  book  of  this  kind  even  at  home, 
when  you  may  write  in  a  comfortable  room,  probably  with 
your  feet  in  warm  slippers  and  your  toes  on  the  fender; 
it  is  twenty  times  harder  to  write  up  your  log  when  you 
are  high  above  the  sea,  on  a  vast  plain  of  snow,  your  fingers 
half-frozen,  your  eyes  clogged,  perhaps,  with  ice,  and  mayhap 
drifting  snow  whirling  round  your  head. 

Reynolds  thought  of  his  wife  when  writing  his,  Colin  of 
his  aunt,  and  Olaf  of  his  mother,  and  also  of  little  Katie, 
arid  the  pleasure  he  would  have  of  reading  it  at  the  widow's 
fireside,  with  "  my  son  John  "  at  one  side  of  the  fire,  Keltic 
and  the  collie  on  the  rug,  and  Mrs.  Jackson  in  the  centre. 

On,  and  on,  and  on  they  journeyed.  Tired  and  weary 
often,  and  often  foot-sore  and  shoulder-sore;  but  ever  deter- 
mined, ever  full  of  hope.  On  the  days  when  the  snow  was 
fairly  smooth  or  less  wavy,  and  its  crust  moderately  hard, 
they  made  long  and  forced  marches,  especially  if  the  cre- 
vasses were  but  few. 

While  Olaf  kept  the  watch  on  their  tenth  night  out  he 
saw  the  new  moon.  He  could  not  help  calling  Colin  to  see 
it  also,  for  he  had  not  yet  turned  in. 

"Hurrah!"  cried  Colin;  "what  a  lovely  sight!" 

That  shout,  of  course,  brought  everybody  out  of  the  tent 
who  had  not  as  yet  crept  into  his  bag. 


222          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

The  new  moon,  however,  brought  with  it  a  blizzard  be- 
fore morning.  The  temperature  sank  lower  and  lower. 
Joseph  was  fain  to  seek  the  shelter  of  the  tent,  for  the 
snow  was  whirling  over  the  prairie,  and  it  was  so  dark  it 
seemed  the  very  darkness  of  death  itself. 

But  morning  broke  gray  and  hazily  over  the  scene  at  last, 
though  it  was  evident  at  a  glance  there  could  be  no  march 
that  day.  Nor  was  there  the  next,  nor  the  next,  our  heroes 
being  almost  completely  snowed  up. 

Except  to  eat  and  drink  they  scarcely  turned  out  at  all. 
It  was  more  comfortable  in  the  bags.  But  the  sky  cleared  at 
last,  and  the  march  was  resumed.  The  snow,  however,  was 
soft  and  powdery,  so  much  so  that  it  was  considered  advis- 
able to  use  the  broad,  round  Canadian  snow-shoe  instead  of 
the  Norwegian  ski. 

This  day  was  memorable  for  what  at  first  was  thought 
would  prove  a  terrible  and  fatal  accident.  Olaf  fell  through 
a  snow  bridge  and  disappeared  deep  down  into  the  crevasse 
beneath. 

Poor  Caesar  howled  with  fear,  even  Keltic  trembled. 
Colin  was  at  the  other  end  of  the  rope,  for  they  were  tied 
together.  At  first  his  heart  sank  with  dread,  for  it  fell  as 
light  as  one's  fishing  line  does,  when  a  monster  trout  has 
just  escaped,  bait  or  fly  and  all.  It  had  evidently  broken, 
so  thought  Colin.  But  Joseph  and  Sigurd  quickly  rounded 
in  the  slack  of  it,  and  hauled  away,  singing,  as  if  they  were 
pulling  the  braces  on  board  ship.  And  presently,  to  the 
intense  delight  of  everybody,  Csesar  included,  they  landed 
their  fish — that  is,  they  hauled  poor  Olaf  to  bank. 

"Augustus  Ca3sar!"  he  exclaimed,  patting  the  Newfound- 
land; "I  don't  think  I  ever  got  such  a  fright  before  in  my 
life.  All  my  past  existence  seemed  to  pass  in  swift  pano- 
rama before  my  eyes,  especially,  Colin,  the  wicked  portions 
of  it;  and  oh! — well,  it  doesn't  matter  now.  Here  we  are, 
Keltic ;  I  shouldn't  have  liked  to  have  passed  a  night  down 
there,  though,  not  for  a  good  deal." 

This,  I  may  as  well  state,  was  not  the  only  accident  of  the 
kind  that  occurred  during  this  marvellous  march  across  the 
continent.  Sigurd  had  the  same  terrible  experience ;  so,  too, 


THE   DISMAL   PRAIRIE   OF   VIRGIN   SNOW.  223 

had  Reynolds  himself,  and  was  very  nearly  dead  when  brought 
to  bank. 

Even  at  this  high  altitude  the  weather  was  changeable, 
and  there  were  times  when  it  actually  rained.  At  other 
times  the  hail  fell  with  such  force,  and  in  pieces  so  large, 
that  it  was  painful  to  stand  against  it. 

One  curious  experience  they  had  was  that  of  a  thunder- 
storm by  night.  While  snow  fell  thick  and  fast,  the  light- 
ning was  extremely  vivid,  the  thunder  awful;  it  seemed, 
indeed,  as  if  the  great  glacier  was  being  rent  into  myriads  of 
pieces,  while  Olaf  observed  that  the  glimmering  and  incessant 
flashes  lit  up  the  "skyful  of  snow-flakes  with  a  'romance- 
someness'  that  was  wonderful  to  witness".  That  is  the 
English  in  which  Olaf  described  the  scene. 

Nobody  had  been  able  to  sleep  through  that  storm.  It 
passed  away  at  last,  however,  and  once  more  deep  silence 
reigned  over  the  great  white  prairie.  As,  however,  it  would 
be  far  easier  to  go  for  a  longer  time  in  these  regions  without 
food  than  without  sleep,  everyone  was  pleased  when,  as  he 
snuggled  down  once  more  into  his  bag,  Reynolds  made  the 
remark  that  they  could  all  have  an  extra  hour  in  the 
morning. 

It  snowed  and  drifted  all  night  long,  for  the  wind  had 
risen  somewhat,  and  certainly  things  did  not  look  over 
pleasant. 

Nor  was  it  a  very  agreeable  sensation  for  our  heroes  next 
day  to  peep  drowsily  out  of  their  bags,  like  sparrows  looking 
out  of  their  nests,  and  find  everything  buried  in  the  snow, 
that  had  sifted  into  the  tent  through  every  cranny  and 
crevice. 

Well,  there  was  no  good  lying  and  looking  at  things  in 
this  sleepy  position,  so,  bringing  their  courage  to  the  front, 
they  scrambled  out  and  donned  the  garments  they  had 
taken  off.  It  may  be  stated  that  they  only  divested  them- 
selves of  their  outer  garments,  and  these  as  a  rule  were 
folded  up  and  used  instead  of  pillows. 

The  journey  this  day  was  a  more  difficult  one  than  any 
they  had  yet  faced.  Note,  reader,  that  though  they  were  now 
very  far  away  from  the  sea,  and  fully  5000  feet  above  the 


224         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

ocean-level,  the  snow-field  was  still  on  the  rise,  and  the  surfaces 
extremely  uneven,  while,  although  crevasses  were  not  so 
numerous,  they  occurred  when  least  expected,  and  some 
looked  very  deep  and  very  awful. 

Caesar  used  still  to  go  bounding  over  these,  but  Keltic, 
remembering  his  terrible  experience,  sometimes  could  not, 
or  would  not  cross,  and  had  to  be  placed  in  a  sledge  and 
dragged  over. 

On,  and  on,  and  on !  No  going  back  now.  The  western 
sea  was  far  ahead;  but  that,  and  that  alone,  must  be  their 
goal. 


CHAPTER  X. 

STARTLING   ADVENTURES — THE   BLIZZARD — REYNOLDS 
SPEAKS   OF  CROSSING  THE  POLE. 

THE  western  sea?  Yes,  that  great  stretch  of  dark,  iceberg- 
studded  water,  that  has  been  the  stage  for  so  many 
tragedies  in  real  life,  and  the  scene  of  so  much  real  heroism, 
long  even  before  America  or  Britain  sent  out  its  greatest 
expeditions.  For,  while  reading  and  thinking  about  the 
brave  doings  and  sufferings  of  those  of  our  explorers  who 
have  penetrated  farthest  to  the  north,  we  forget  entirely  the 
heroism  of  our  honest,  though  humble,  whale-fishers,  who 
never  wrote  books  about  their  travels,  but  who  were  in  the 
habit  of  sailing  away  from  Aberdeen  or  Peterhead  in  the 
end  of  the  summer,  and  lying  high  up  north  on  the  western 
shores  of  Greenland  through  all  the  darkness  and  dreariness 
of  a  Polar  winter,  in  order  to  be  first  in  at  the  death  of 
whales  in  the  early  spring. 

Their  ships  were  strong,  but  otherwise  the  roughest  of 
the  rough ;  their  board  was  frugal,  and  of  comforts  they  had 
but  few,  such  as  tobacco,  tea,  and  coffee.  But  the  Vikings 
of  old  were  not  more  plucky  and  undaunted  than  those 
whaler  seamen. 

When  those  bold  mariners  of  the  frozen  north  returned 


STARTLING  ADVENTURES.  225 

home,  their  ships  with  every  morsel  of  paint  scratched  off 
the  hull,  with  rent  and  riven  sails  perhaps,  and  often  with 
jury-masts,  their  owners  met  them  with  smiles  and  feted 
and  feasted  the  captain — if  he  had  been  successful.  If  not, 
they  had  only  sour  looks  and  lowered  brows  to  welcome 
him  withal.  Never  mind,  our  Arctic  whalers  had  sweet- 
hearts, mothers,  wives,  and  sisters;  so  there  was  always  a 
real  welcome  for  them  that  the  shipowners  could  not  for- 
bid. 

After  a  few  more  days  of  hauling  our  wanderers  found 
themselves  at  their  highest  altitude,  about  9000  feet  above 
the  sea-level.  As  the  snow-fields  to  the  northward  and 
west  were  now  level  as  far  as  they  could  see,  they  tried  an 
experiment  of  hoisting  rude  sails  to  assist  the  sledges  over 
the  snow.  These  succeeded  beyond  their  utmost  expectation, 
for  the  wind  was  fair.  The  wind  was  also  uncomfortably 
high,  but  I  suppose  that  at  the  dreary  altitude  they  had  now 
reached  the  wind  is  nearly  always  blowing  more  or  less. 

One  day,  with  the  help  of  those  improvised  sails,  they 
managed  to  do  perhaps  the  longest  journey  they  had  yet 
recorded. 

The  great  snow  prairie  continued  level,  but  there  were 
mountain  summits  seen  away  in  the  far  north,  and  here  and 
there  rising  from  the  ice  plain  peaks  or  "  nunataks  ".  Ex- 
cept for  those  there  was  nothing  at  sunset  to  break  the 
terrible  monotony  of  the  scene. 

The  land,  if  I  dare  call  it  land,  was  somewhat  on  the 
down-grade  next  day,  but  the  wind  veered  more  round  to 
the  north,  and  increased  in  force  till  it  blew  almost  a  gale. 
At  the  same  time  banks  of  white  rock-like  clouds  that  had 
suddenly  appeared  above  the  distant  mountain  peaks  ad- 
vanced higher  and  higher.  They  came  on,  indeed,  with 
whirlwind  speed,  and  it  was  soon  evident  that  a  more  fear- 
ful snowstorm  than  any  they  had  yet  encountered  was 
rapidly  approaching. 

Luckily  a  rock  was  near,  and  to  the  lee  side  of  this  they 
quickly  hurried. 

"What  a  blessing  it  is,"  said  Eeynolds  laughing,  "to 
reach  a  good  hotel  before  the  storm  comes  on." 

(988)  P 


226         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"The  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land,"  said 
Joseph,  quoting  Scripture. 

"Amen!"  said  Rudland;  "but  look,  Captain  Reynolds,  if 
we  throw  up  an  embankment  at  both  sides  of  us,  and  place 
the  tent  in  the  centre,  we  will  be  as  comfortable  as  if  we 
were  in  good  old  Uncle  M 'Ivor's  tartan  parlour." 

"Well  thought!"  cried  Reynolds.  "Come,  boys,  bear  a 
hand.  The  storm  is  coming." 

In  a  very  short  time  the  embankment  was  thrown  up  and 
the  tent  rigged. 

"We  haven't  done  a  bad  day's  work  after  all,"  said 
Reynolds. 

"No,"  said  Joseph;  "and  we  couldn't  have  gone  very 
much  further,  for  it  is  near  sunset." 

"Ha!  Joe;  I  know  what  you  mean.     You  are  hungry." 

"Wowff!"  barked  Csesar. 

"  Wiffl  wiff!"  added  Keltie  as  usual. 

"Thank  Heaven!"  said  Reynolds,  "there  is  corn  in 
Egypt." 

"Now,  Colin,  bustle  about.  Get  the  cooker  out,  Olaf. 
We  shall  have  soup  to-night,  and  biscuit  and  meat  and  all 
things  nice.  And,  Caesar  and  Keltie,  there  is  plenty  of 
frozen  seal  still  left.  So  let  us  all  be  jolly." 

But  the  storm  came  on  before  they  had  quite  finished 
dinner.  The  snow  fell  thick  and  fast,  but  was  caught  up 
even  before  it  reached  the  ice  and  ground  by  that  fierce  and 
terrible  wind  into  the  finest  of  ice  dust  which  filled  the  air 
everywhere,  sifted  in  through  the  crevices  in  the  tent  like 
smoke,  and  almost  suffocated  the  inmates. 

Jolly,  indeed1?  Well,  it  needed  all  their  courage  and 
philosophy  to  be  anything  like  jolly  in  a  night  of  snow- 
tempest  like  this.  The  temperature  had  gone  down,  down, 
down,  I  do  not  know  how  many  degrees  below  zero.  Out 
on  the  ice  no  one  could  have  lived  for  an  hour. 

Additional  tarpaulins  were  put  up  to  keep  out  the  sifting 
snow,  but  I  fear  these  availed  but  little.  There  was  no 
comfort  in  sitting  up,  so  at  Joseph's  suggestion  everyone 
took  refuge  in  the  bed-bags.  But  so  intense  was  the  cold 
even  here  that  they  shivered  for  hours. 


STARTLING  ADVENTURES.  227 

It  was  indeed  a  bitter,  bitter  night.  Then  the  dreary 
moaning  and  sometimes  shrieking  of  the  snow-wind  across 
and  round  the  tent  was  dreary  in  the  extreme. 

The  storm  seemed  to  increase  rather  than  otherwise  to- 
wards midnight,  and  at  times  it  appeared  as  if  the  tent 
itself  would  be  rent  in  pieces  or  lifted  and  blown  away, 
leaving  the  wanderers  to  the  mercy  of  the  pitiless  storm. 

"Boys,"  said  Reynolds,  "are  you  all  asleep?" 

There  was  an  answering  chorus  of  "No";  even  Keltic 
said  "Wiff",  which  meant  that  he  was  all  alive,  and  fit  for 
anything. 

"  Boys,  I  move  that  somebody  gets  up  and  makes  coffee. 
Whose  watch  is  it?" 

"  Mine,"  said  Joseph.     "  I'm  keeping  it  in  my  bag." 

But  Joe  got  up  and  lit  the  spirits  of  wine.  The  water 
was  frozen,  so  it  took  fully  twenty  minutes  to  heat.  Joe 
meanwhile  got  the  biscuits  out,  and  spread  them  thickly 
with  butter — of  which,  by  good  luck,  they  had  brought  a 
large  supply,  for  in  Greenland  one  longs  for  fat  with  a  pas- 
sionate longing  unknown  to  people  farther  south.  Then  he 
found  the  cheese — a  fat  old  one  it  was — and  on  each  biscuit 
he  placed  a  good  slice.  Joe  was  ankle-deep  in  powdery  snow 
all  this  time,  and  the  drift  was  at  times  like  smoke,  so  that 
he  gasped  and  almost  choked. 

What  a  delightful  supper  that  was,  however,  and  how 
every  one  did  enjoy  it,  to  be  sure!  And  what  is  more, 
every  one  slept  after  this,  even  Joe — who  was  keeping  his 
watch  in  the  bag. 

In  the  morning  it  was  still  pitch  dark  when  it  should 
have  been  light.  The  wind,  however,  had  gone  down. 

"Is  it  still  night?"  said  Reynolds.  "I  feel  capitally 
rested." 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Colin,  striking  a  wax  vesta  to  look  at  his 
watch. 

"Why,  Captain  Reynolds,  it  is  ten  o'clock!" 

"  Then  we're  snowed  up.     That's  all." 

This  was  true.  They  were  snowed  up,  but  not  to  any 
great  depth,  for  Caesar  and  Keltic  set  to  work  with  a  will, 
and  very  soon  let  the  daylight  in. 


228         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

That  day  the  skier  were  no  good,  so  it  was  a  weary  drag 
with  Canadian  snow-shoes  on.  But  the  sun  was  very  bright, 
and  before  evening  the  snow  had  become  soft  and  packed 
somewhat;  then  at  night,  which  was  bright  and  clear,  with 
a  soft  moon  shining,  the  frost  hardened  the  surface,  so  that 
next  day's  march  was  quite  a  picnic.  Everybody  was  as 
happy  as  the  traditional  sand-boy,  or  the  black  man  in  an 
empty  sugar  cask,  or  a  school-boy  going  home  for  the  holi- 
days. 

For  several  days  not  only  the  weather,  but  the  ice-field 
or  great  snow-prairie,  was  everything  that  could  be  desired, 
and  the  progress  made  was  very  satisfactory  indeed. 

Then  high  winds  began  again,  and  falling,  drifting  snow. 
The  wind  had  a  habit  of  getting  up  without  giving  much 
warning.  As  it  was  very  awkward  to  be  caught  in  a  storm 
at  night,  Eeynolds  managed  to  end  the  day's  journey  in  a 
place  as  sheltered  as  possible,  and  to  spend  some  time  in 
throwing  up  a  protecting  embankment  of  snow.  Then  the 
tent  was  erected,  and  dinner  cooked  at  once.  Thus  cosily 
ensconced,  to  quote  Burns: 

"  The  storm  without  might  rair  and  rustle, 
They  didna  mind  the  storm  a  whistle." 

I  have  said  "cosily  ensconced".  Well,  as  a  rule,  there 
wasn't  much  cosiness  about  it.  To  tell  the  truth,  the  only 
real  comfort  our  heroes  had,  apart  from  eating  dinner — 
and  that  was  not  a  very  enticing  meal — was  cuddling  up  in 
their  sleeping-bags.  The  comfort  of  a  sleeping-bag  in  the 
Arctic  regions  cannot  be  over-estimated. 

But  they  really  got  a  good  deal  of  enjoyment  out  of  the 
new  plan  of  sailing  the  sledges.  I  need  hardly  say  new, 
for  it  had  been  known  in  Canada  for  many  years,  and  in  a 
rougher  kind  of  way  my  brothers  and  I  used,  when  boys,  to 
enjoy  the  sport  among  our  native  hills. 

The  farther  north  and  west  our  heroes  got,  the  more 
difficult  did  the  road  become.  It  was  now  to  a  great  extent 
down-hill,  for  the  country  was  now  mountainous,  the  snow 
often  treacherous  in  the  extreme,  and  the  descent  of  some 


IT   WAS    A   WEARY    DRAG   WITH    CANADIAN   SNOW-SHOES   ON." 


STARTLING  ADVENTURES.  229 

of  the  slopes  was  so  dangerous  with  the  sledges  behind  them, 
that  they  positively  took  their  lives  in  their  hands  when  the 
attempt  was  made. 

In  a  hilly  and  snow-covered  country  like  this,  it  was 
necessary  to  send  one  of  the  party  on  in  front  for  the 
purpose  of  prospecting  and  finding  out  the  best  and  safest 
route.  This  was  a  duty  that  usually  devolved  on  Olaf,  or 
rather,  it  was  one  which  he  cheerfully  proposed  to  undertake. 
He  did  not  go  quite  alone,  however.  No ;  Caesar  would  not 
hear  of  this.  And,  of  course,  Keltic  accompanied  Caesar;  so 
they  were  a  trio. 

Olaf  s  duty  was  one  not  unattended  with  danger,  and,  to 
tell  the  truth,  the  young  fellow  was  just  a  trifle  rash  at 
times,  and  did  not  always  look  before  him.  This  fault  of 
his  led  once  to  his  falling  over  a  ledge  of  rock.  Luckily  the 
snow  was  deep  and  soft  below,  else  the  consequences  might 
have  been  very  serious  indeed. 

Another  time,  when — luckily  again,  the  sledges  were 
not  far  behind  him — Reynolds  heard  Caesar  howling  most 
dismally,  and  Keltic  keeping  up  a  dreary  minor.  With 
Joseph  and  Sigurd  he  rushed  forward  to  find  that  poor 
Olaf  had  skilobned  into  a  narrow  crevasse.  His  bamboo  pole, 
from  ledge  to  ledge,  alone  supported  him,  and  saved  him 
from  an  awful  doom.  I  think  that  Olaf  was  a  little  more 
careful  after  this. 

I  am  not  going  to  make  any  attempt  to  describe  the 
savageness  of  the  mountain  scenery  that  the  little  expedi- 
tion at  last  found  around  them  on  every  hand.  Take  the 
wildest  parts  of  our  Scottish  Highlands  of  Glencoe  and  the 
mountain  lands  of  Sutherland  around  the  dark  lochs,  throw 
in  Glen  Coruisk  and  Quiraing  itself,  in  Skye,  imagine  all 
this  wildery  to  be  covered  with  ice  and  snow,  and  every 
boulder  of  stone  a  block  like  glass,  covered  on  one  side  with 
snow;  imagine  the  dreary  glens  between  these  mountains  to 
be  studded  with  these  blocks  of  ice,  as  if  mighty  giants  had 
been  fighting  for  supremacy,  and  then  you  have  but  a  faint 
notion  of  some  of  the  difficulties  that  our  heroes  had  to 
encounter. 

On  to  the  western  sea.     There  was  now  no  going  back. 


230         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

There  could  be  none.  If  the  difficulties  and  dangers  became 
at  last  unsurmountable,  they  would  have  to  die  in  the  soli- 
tude of  this  awful  wilderness. 

And  every  one  seemed  to  know  and  to  feel  this.  Yet  the 
dangers,  the  difficulties,  the  toilsomeness  of  the  journey  but 
nerved  their  hearts  and  steeled  their  limbs.  Whatever  a 
man  dares  he  can  do. 

But  when  the  ice  improved,  when  the  surface  of  the 
valleys  and  glens  became  smoother,  when  the  wind  blew 
less  piercingly,  then  at  eventide,  in  their  bags,  it  was 
wonderful  how  gay  and  even  jolly  every  one  appeared 
to  be.  Those  who  smoked  were  then  allowed  to  smoke; 
those  who  could  tell  a  good  story,  or  even  a  racy  anecdote, 
told  it. 

But  Sigurd,  it  must  be  allowed,  was  the  tale-teller  of  the 
expedition.  His  English  might  not  have  been  the  very 
best,  and  he  may  have  introduced  many  words  that  really 
could  not  be  called  English  or  even  good  broad  Scotch,  still 
his  narratives  were  none  the  less  graphic. 

It  was  the  weird  legends  of  the  land  of  the  Norseman 
that  both  Colin  and  Olaf  delighted  most  to  listen  to,  and 
the  folk-lore  of  Sigurd's  native  land,  of  the  little  spirit-men 
that  dwell  among  the  mountains,  in  the  morasses  or  bogs,  and 
in  the  forests,  and  who  bear  nought  but  ill-will  to  human 
beings;  of  the  good  fairies,  who,  on  the  contrary,  love  man- 
kind, and  at  odd  times  appear  to  the  peasant  or  the 
peasant's  wife  in  their  humble  log  hut,  and  always  bring 
them  luck;  and  of  the  fearful  fiends  who  live  in  the  deepest 
pools  of  lonesome  lakes  or  tarns,  which,  if  they  leave  by 
night,  it  is  only  to  work  woe  and  destruction  in  some  thriv- 
ing village,  or  to  lure  some  lonely  and  belated  traveller  to  a 
frightful  doom. 

"Boys,"  said  Reynolds  one  evening  on  which  they  had 
retired  early,  for  even  then  the  western  sky  was  all  aglow 
with  the  beams  of  the  sun,  "  boys,  in  a  few  more  days  we 
will  have  accomplished  our  task,  and  shall  be  eating  fried 
fresh  fish — fried  in  oil,  mind  you — in  Christianshaab." 

"Hurrah!"  cried  Colin. 

"Won't  I  have  a  blow-out!"  said  Olaf. 


REYNOLDS   SPEAKS   OF   CROSSING   THE   POLE.          231 

"  I  don't  know  exactly  what  will  happen  to  us  after  that," 
continued  Reynolds. 

"Trust  in  chance,"  said  Rudland.  "Captain,  I'm  going 
to  have  another  pipe." 

"Well,  smoke.     I  shall  talk." 

"We  all  shall  listen,"  said  Joe.  "It  is  rather  a  rare 
thing,  sir,  to  hear  you  talking  for  any  great  length  of  time 
at  a  spell.  So,  heave  round,  doctor,  I'll  join  you  in  a 
pipe." 

"Well,"  said  Reynolds,  "I've  been  thinking." 

"  Something  I  never  do,"  said  Rudland. 

"A  good  thing  for  your  patients  you  don't,"  laughed 
Colin. 

"Go  on,  captain,  please." 

"Yes,  heave  round,  sir." 

"  Well,  it  isn't  only  recently,  you  know,  that  I  have  taken 
the  notion  into  my  head  that  I  am  now  going  to  tell  you 
of.  0,  no,  for  often  enough  I  have  lain  awake  in  the  tent 
high  up  on  the  snow-fields  yonder  while  you  were  all  asleep, 
and,  pardon  me,  snoring  like  frogs.  I  have  lain  awake 
to  think,  and  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion,  that  there  is 
only  one  way  of  finding  out  the  North  Pole,  and  of  ever 
crossing  it." 

"What!"  cried  Joseph,  "you're  not  going  to  take  us 
there,  sir?" 

"Not  this  cruise,  Joe.  But  at  a  future  time,  if  all  of 
you  here  care  to  accompany  me,  I  will  be  very  glad  to  have 
you." 

"And  we  will  go  anywhere  with  you,  sir." 

"  Hear,  hear ! "  cried  Olaf  and  Colin. 

"We  have  been  very  happy  together  all  through  this 
dreary  journey,  haven't  we,  Joe?" 

"  There's  never  been  an  angry  word,  sir,"  said  Joe.  "  I'm 
sure  we  have  been  perfectly  happy,  in  spite  of  all  our  toils 
and  trials  and  dangers." 

"  And  we  are  all  safe  and  sound,"  said  Colin. 

"Thank  God  for  that,"  said  Reynolds  fervently.  "We 
have  trusted  Him.  Our  prayers  found  their  way  to  the 
throne  of  grace." 


232          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"Ay,  ay,  sir.  The  great  Captain  was  ever  near  us  in 
storm  and  tempest.  His  name  be  praised ! " 

Reynolds  paused  for  a  moment. 

"  Boys,"  he  continued,  "  as  you  know,  because  I  have  told 
you,  and  Joseph  has  told  you,  my  experience  of  the  Polar 
regions,  and  Polar  ice,  and  the  Arctic  currents  of  the  ocean  is 
not  inconsiderable.  It  is  true  that  I  have  never  occupied 
the  exalted  position  of  a  great  explorer.  Nor  has  my  old 
friend  Joseph." 

"We  have  just  been  blubber-hunters,  boys;  that's  the 
short  and  the  long  of  it,"  said  Joe. 

"Well,  anyhow,  Joe  and  I  have  been  many  times  and 
oft  frozen  up  in  the  dreary  regions  round  Jan  Mayen,  and 
even  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Spitzbergen,  and  we  have 
noticed,  and  we  have  watched  the  lay  and  the  send  of  the 
currents  and  the  drift  of  the  ice.  Haven't  we,  Joe1?" 

"We  studied  them  very  hard,  sir.  By  gum!  sir,  we 
had  to.  Hadn't  we  to  fight  against  them;  and  if  we  hadn't 
done  so,  it's  a  poor  voyage  we'd  have  had,  and  only  sour 
looks  when  we  got  back  to  Peterhead  or  Fraserburgh." 

"Well,  boys,  I  want  you  to  explain  this,  for  even  you, 
Colin,  can,  I  think.  One  year  when  Joe  and  I  were  beset 
near  to  the  shores  of  Spitzbergen  for  a  very  long  time — " 

"We  never  expected  to  get  out  again,  did  we,  sir?" 

"  No,  Joseph.  But  we  did  all  we  could  to  cheer  up  the 
men  all  through  that  dark  and  dreary  winter.  We  even 
built  a  snow-house  with  a  fireplace." 

"Didn't  the  fire  melt  the  ice,  sir1?" 

"  The  fire  was  built  against  the  rock,  Olaf,  but  our  igloo, 
mind  you,  was  partly  wood.  Wood,  boys,  you'll  take  note, 
that  never  waved  green  on  the  rocky  hills  of  Spitzbergen, 
for  when  wood  grew  there,  lads,  this  world  was  younger  far 
than  it  is  to-day. 

"  Well,  where  did  the  wood  come  from?  It  was  compara- 
tively recent,  you  will  remember.  It  was  not  fossil  wood, 
it  was  wood  that  could  float  and  drift,  and  it  came  from  the 
pine-clad  shores  of  distant  Siberia.  Yes,  and  that  wood 
doesn't  all  land  on  these  shores,  boys;  it  is  taken  with  the 
ice  far  away  to  the  eastern  shores  of  North  Greenland  itself. 


REYNOLDS   SPEAKS   OF  CROSSING  THE   POLE.          233 

"How  does  it  get  there,  think  you,  boys?  It  is  taken 
there  regularly,  mind  you.  It  is  drifted  on  a  current,  and 
that  current  must  be  a  regular  one.  Boys,  it  is  my  firm 
belief  that  that  current  goes  sweeping  over  the  very  pole 
itself.  And,  Joseph,  my  idea  is  that  if  in  a  strong  ship,  well 
provisioned  for  years,  we  should  take  the  ice  to  the  nor'ard 
and  east,  in  course  of  time  we  would  ourselves,  ship  and  all, 
be  drifted  across  the  pole. 

"I'll  say  no  more  to-night,  lads.  Think  of  it;  and  if  any 
of  you  are  afraid  to  venture  with  me  on  this  exploration, 
which,  if  fortune  favours  me,  I  mean  to  make,  he  can  stay 
at  home.  But,  like  me,  you  must  think  it  out,"  he  added. 

"That  we  will,  sir,"  said  Joseph;  "but  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  sir,  the  scheme  seems  to  me,  at  first  blush,  to  be 
somewhat — somewhat — a — a — " 

"Utopian,  Joseph1?" 

"The  very  word,  sir,  I  was  trying  to  harpoon." 

"Well,  Joe,  I  have  only  broken  the  ice,  and  I  am  glad 
that  I  have  told  you,  boys,  about  my  idea  before  breathing  a 
word  to  anyone  else.  Think  it  out.  I  myself  have  already 
done  so." 

The  conversation  now  drifted  into  another  channel.  Colin 
began  to  talk  of  home. 

"Do  you  remember,  Olaf,"  he  said,  "the  first  days  of  our 
acquaintance  1 " 

"Ah,"  replied  Olaf,  "I  am  never  likely  to  forget  anything 
that  happened  then,  nor  the  pretty  little  cottage  in  Consti- 
tution Street,  nor  kindly  widow  Jackson  with  'my  son  John', 
Captain  Junk,  and — and  pretty  little  Katie.  Shouldn't  I  like 
to  know  what  they  are  all  doing  now1?" 

"  So  should  I,"  said  Colin.  "  I  wouldn't  mind  popping 
into  Auntie  Dewar's  either,  and  surprising  her  as  I  used 
to  do." 

And  thus  they  rattled  on,  talking  for  hours  of — 

"Home,  home,  sweet,  sweet  home", 

Then  they  slept.  For  the  next  best  thing  to  talking  of 
home  is — 

"To  dream  of  home". 


234          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

CHAPTER  XL 

"WE   WILL   STAND   OR   FALL   TOGETHER  "—THE  WESTERN 


NOW  that  he  had  broken  the  ice,  as  he  phrased  it,  or 
brought  the  subject  that  had  long  been  uppermost  in 
his  thoughts  before  his  companions,  Eeynolds  was  never 
tired  talking  about  it,  and  laughingly  introduced  it  when- 
ever there  was  the  slightest  chance.  And  at  those  best  of 
hours  of  all  the  day,  just  after  they  had  got  inside  the  sleep- 
ing-bags and  lay  warmly  snuggled  up,  enjoying  rest,  comfort, 
and  conversation,  he  did  not  fail  to  lead  round  to  it. 

Indeed,  our  brave  Captain  Reynolds  was  highly  pleased 
that  his  scheme  had  not  met  with  greater  opposition.  Joe, 
he  knew,  was  a  bit  of  a  cynic;  Reynolds  rather  dreaded  his 
satire.  But  perhaps  he  dreaded  more  the  silence  of  Sigurd. 
Had  this  man,  who  knew  so  much  about  Greenland  and  the 
far,  far  north,  shaken  his  head  and  said  nothing,  the  captain 
would  have  been  disheartened.  But,  on  the  contrary,  Sigurd 
was  willing  enough  to  discuss  the  plan  in  all  its  bearings, 
and  he  even  added  suggestions,  good  ones  too,  that  probably 
Reynolds  himself  would  never  have  thought  of. 

Then  this  enterprising  navigator  and  explorer  felt  happy. 
He  looked  round  to  Joseph  with  beaming  eyes,  for  when 
Sigurd  was  talking,  as  a  rule  Joe  said  nothing,  or  very  little. 
He  liked  to  listen  to  Sigurd.  The  man  took  time  to  speak, 
it  is  true,  but  what  he  did  say  was  always  to  the  point. 

On  the  evening  of  one  very  toilsome  day's  march,  when 
within  about  two  days'  journey  of  Disko  Bay,  Reynolds  called 
the  halt  for  the  night  very  much  earlier  than  usual. 

"  We're  all  tired  this  evening,"  he  said,  "  and,  being  so 
near  to  comparative  civilization,  I  think  we  may  make  our- 
selves as  cosy  as  we  know  how  to.  What  say  you  to  tea  in 
advance1?" 

"Splendid!"  cried  Colin,  blowing  on  his  fingers,  for  the 
day  was  somewhat  cold,  though  the  sky  was  free  from  snow 
and  the  wind  anything  but  high. 


"WE  WILL  STAND  OR  FALL  TOGETHER."      235 

They  had  chosen  a  very  well  sheltered  place  to  pitch  the 
tent;  and  while  Olaf  and  Colin  were  getting  ready  the  tea, 
Eeynolds  spread  his  map  of  the  polar  regions  out  before 
Sigurd  and  Joseph. 

"  I  have  told  you,"  he  said,  "  all  about  the  currents,  and 
why  I  believe  that  such  currents  do  really  exist.  You  think 
I  am  right  concerning  the  existence  of  such  currents,  do  you 
not,  Sigurd?" 

Sigurd  looked  at  the  hills  for  a  moment  or  two,  as  if  he 
sought  the  answer  he  ought  to  give  from  their  highest 
peaks. 

"  Ye — es,"  he  said.  "  I  think  that  the  argument  of  the 
drifting  wood  is  incapable  of  refutation." 

That  was  the  gist  of  Sigurd's  answer,  the  words  were 
more  simple. 

"  And  yet,"  said  Eeynolds,  "  there  are  men  in  England, 
and  in  your  country  too,  Sigurd,  who  try  to  explain  things 
in  quite  a  different  way.  They  tell  us,  for  instance,  that 
the  drift-wood,  the  floes  themselves  even,  may  be  carried 
across  the  sea  by  the  wind  about  once  only  in  a  hundred 
years." 

"Nonsense!"     This  from  Sigurd  emphatically. 

"Thank  you  for  that  word,  Sigurd.  In  you  I  have  a 
firm  ally." 

"And  in  me,"  said  Joe.  "0,  bother  it  all,  Captain! 
though  I  don't  say  much,  I  think  all  the  more;  and  you 
don't  go  anywhere  without  old  Joe." 

"  Captain  Reynolds,"  said  Rudland  Syme,  "  I  have  not 
said  much  one  way  or  another,  but,  like  Joe,  I  have  been 
thinking  freely.  I  have  been  considering  your  scheme  and 
plans,  and  I  have  been  considering  you.  I  have  been  con- 
sidering, too,  what  a  celebrated  Edinburgh  physician  said  to 
me  before  I  left  in  Daybreak's  yacht.  *  You  have,'  he  said, 
'a  very  pretty  case  of  monomania  on  board.'" 

"And  the  monomaniac  was  I?"  said  Reynolds,  laughing 
heartily. 

"  You  were  the  monomaniac ;  and,  indeed,  I  half  thought 
at  the  time  that  this  good  surgeon,  his  opinion  being  backed 
by  so  many  scientific  men,  might  be  right.  But  now  I  find 


236          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

he  is  wrong.  The  crossing  of  the  Greenland  continent  is  a 
fait  accompli,  and  there  is  nothing  so  successful  as  success." 

"And  you  don't  now  consider  me  a  monomaniac1?" 

"Quite  the  contrary,  sir;  and  I  am  willing  and  ready  to 
follow  you  into  the  uttermost  regions  of  the  earth." 

"So  ami,"  said  Colin. 

"And  I,"  said  Olaf. 

Svolto  stole  up  with  Keltic  in  his  arms,  and  slipped  his 
big  and  somewhat  ungainly  hand  into  that  of  Sigurd. 

"  Why,"  cried  Reynolds,  springing  up  from  the  edge  of 
the  sledge  in  which  he  had  been  sitting,  "  I've  got  you  all." 

"  Wowff!"  barked  big  Caesar. 

"Boys,"  cried  Reynolds,  "or  rather  men,  let  me  shake 
hands  with  you  all  round.  This  is  a  compact.  We  will 
stand  or  fall  together.  Through  good  report  or  evil  report 
we  will  be  as  one." 

"Hip,  hip,  hip,  hoor ay!"  This  was  from  Colin,  but 

it  was  a  cheer  in  which  all  joined  right  heartily,  a  cheer 
that  was  re-echoed  back  from  the  very  ice-cliffs  themselves, 
not  once,  but  a  dozen  times. 

"Wowff!"  barked  the  great  dog  again.  I  suppose  he 
didn't  know  what  was  up,  but  only  that  there  was  excite- 
ment of  some  kind  on  hand,  so  he  started  off  in  a  wide 
circle  through  the  snow  with  Keltic  at  his  heels,  by  way  of 
relieving  his  feelings. 

"  And  now,  Colin,  is  tea  ready  ? " 

"  That  it  is,  and  I  know  we  shall  enjoy  it.  Fancy,  Olaf, 
only  two  days'  journey  to  Disko  Bay." 

The  country  all  round  Disko  Bay,  and  the  tiny  village 
thereon,  is  very  beautiful  in  summer.  Indeed,  I  may  tell 
you  that  it  is  lovely  at  any  time  when  the  sun  shines,  and 
even  in  the  moonlight. 

But  now  summer  had  almost  gone.  The  days  were  already 
drawing  in,  the  nights  were  cold,  even  by  the  water  side. 

Greenland  men,  I  mean  men  who  sail  year  after  year  to 
Davis  Straits  or  Baffin's  Bay  to  prosecute  the  whale  fishing, 
look  upon  Disko,  far  north  though  it  be,  as  quite  near  at 
home.  If,  however,  the  reader  takes  a  glance  at  the  map  he 


THE  WESTERN   SEA.  237 

will  hardly,  I  think,  be  likely  to  endorse  the  opinion  of  these 
brave  mariners. 

I  know  of  no  situation  that  is  more  intensely  or  pleasantly 
exciting  than  that  of  reaching  at  last  one's  promised  goal 
after  months  or  even  weeks  of  danger  and  toil,  be  it  upon 
the  dark  blue  sea  or  in  a  land  that  has  been  hitherto  un- 
known to  us. 

I  cannot,  however,  undertake  to  describe  the  feelings  of 
our  heroes  when  they  stood  at  last  on  the  brink  of  a  great 
glacier,  just  as  the  sun  was  sinking  in  the  west  behind  the 
rugged  island  of  Disko. 

And  any  attempt  of  mine  to  describe  the  scenery  itself 
would  be  equally  vain.  Not  that  it  was  magnificent,  wide 
and  wild  though  it  was;  there  was  a  coldness  and  dreariness 
about  it  which  at  any  other  time  or  under  other  circum- 
stances might  have  been  felt  by  our  heroes,  but  certainly 
was  not  now.  They  had  come  from  regions  so  savage,  so 
inhospitable,  that  the  country  beneath  them  seemed  heavenly 
in  comparison,  and  those  clouds  so  radiant  in  crimson  and 
gold,  in  bronze  and  gray,  appeared  but  to  reflect  the  joy 
that  was  in  every  heart. 

And  summer  was  surely  lingering  down  yonder  still. 
Was  there  not  a  profusion  of  wild  flowers  still  in  bloom? 
Did  not  the  softest  and  greenest  of  moss  still  cover  the 
bonnie  hillsides'?  Here  and  there  lingered  patches  of  snow 
in  hollows  near  to  the  cliffs,  but  these  detracted  not  at  all 
from  the  beauty  of  the  scene  itself,  any  more  than  did  the 
snow-white  pieces  of  ice  or  strange  fantastic  bergs  afloat  in 
the  ocean  detract  from  the  irresistible  charm  of  the  dark, 
deep-blue  sea  on  which  they  floated.  There  were  streamlets, 
too,  trickling  down  from  the  glaciers,  and  yonder  a  rivulet 
which,  after  dashing  over  a  cliff  and  forming  a  cataract,  the 
smoke  or  spray  of  which  could  be  seen  from  the  spot  where 
these  weary  wanderers  stood,  and  the  sound  of  which  fell 
on  their  ears  like  the  murmur  of  far-off  music,  glided  away, 
and  was  lost  to  view. 

But  there  was  something  else  in  the  bay  yonder  that 
riveted  their  attention  far  more  than  anything.  It  was  a 
ship. 


238         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

The  gloaming  shadows  were  creeping  down  from  the  hills 
or  up  from  the  sea,  so  that  even  with  the  aid  of  their  lor- 
gnettes it  was  not  possible  to  make  out  the  nationality  of  the 
vessel,  far  less  her  name. 

"One  other  night  on  the  ice,  boys;    one  other  night," 
said  Reynolds.     "  And  now  for  supper.     It  would  be  a  pity 
to  permit  even  joy  to  spoil  our  appetite." 
.  * 

What  a  happy  welcome  our  heroes  received  at  this  little 
Danish  settlement !  Everybody  in  the  village  turned  out  to 
greet  them,  though  the  whole  population  barely  numbered 
one  hundred  and  fifty  souls,  the  large  majority  of  whom 
were  Eskimos,  or  half-castes. 

But  a  happier  welcome  than  even  this  awaited  them,  and 
a  joyful  surprise  indeed  was  theirs  when  a  boat  landed  on 
the  beach.  Why,  here  was  Lord  Daybreak  himself! 

I  must  leave  the  reader  to  imagine  what  that  meeting 
was  like.  The  situation  is  far  too  strong  for  my  poor  pen. 

"Well,"  said  Daybreak  laughing,  "the  fact  is,  we  bore 
up  for  home  after  you  left  us,  but  we  encountered  a  gale  of 
wind  which  blew  right  in  our  teeth.  So  we  changed  our 
minds,  I  and  my  sailing  master,  and  we  changed  our  course 
at  the  same  time.  We  made  a  beam  wind  of  it,  you  see. 
And  why  shouldn't  we  change  our  minds  ?  We  had  taken 
you  out,  I  told  my  captain,  and  it  was  but  fair  to  take  you 
back." 

"Ten  thousand  thanks!"  said  Reynolds. 

"  Ten  thousand  fiddlesticks !"  said  his  lordship.  "  But  we 
really  are  delighted  to  see  you.  We  saw  you  last  night  on 
the  ice-cap;  but  if  I  must  tell  you  all  the  truth,  Reynolds, 
we  did  not  expect,  at  the  time  you  left  us,  ever  to  clap  eyes 
upon  you  in  this  world  again." 

"What  will  the  clever,  but  somewhat  abusive,  savants 
say  now1?"  he  added  gleefully.  "And  here  is  poor  Caesar. 
Hasn't  forgotten  me?  Nor  Keltie  either?  Well,  well,  to  be 
sure  this  is  a  happy  meeting!" 

"Caesar,  you  old  rogue!"  cried  Colin. 

The  fact  is  Caesar  had  not  only  licked  his  lordship's  ear 
by  way  of  recognition,  but  had  deftly  snatched  off  his  ever- 


"SO   GOD   BROUGHT  YOU  BACK."  239 

lasting  cap  of  fur,  and  was  now  tearing  round  and  round 
with  it,  Keltie  as  usual  at  his  heels. 

The  Inspector's  house  to  which  all  were  invited  looked 
quite  like  a  palace,  and  the  dinner  set  before  our  heroes  was 
a  feast,  a  banquet  fit  to  place  before  a  king. 

The  only  drawback  to  perfect  happiness  and  enjoyment 
was  the  mosquitoes. 

"We  are  used  to  them,"  laughed  the  Inspector.  They 
don't  bother  us  now.  But  they  know  you  are  strangers, 
and  are  rejoiced  to  get  a  taste  of  fresh  blood." 

Yes,  summer  was  at  an  end,  and  winter  itself  might  now 
come  soon  and  sudden,  so  that,  for  fear  the  Aurora  might 
get  beset  in  the  ice  while  going  southwards,  a  start  was 
made  just  two  days  after  the  arrival  of  the  expedition  in 
Disko  Bay. 

They  called  at  Godshaavn,  on  the  island.  Then,  with  a 
fair  wind  and  an  open  ice-way,  in  due  time  the  bonnie 
yacht  reached  the  blue  water. 

Then  it  was  eastward  ho!  across  the  Atlantic.  Every- 
thing favoured  the  mariners — even  our  heroes  were  mariners 
now  once  more — and  the  voyage  was  a  delightful  one. 

When  they  arrived  in  Aberdeen  once  more,  safe  and 
sound  and  well,  the  fame  of  the  expedition  speedily  got 
noised  abroad,  and  savants  from  all  parts  of  the  country 
flocked  in  to  hear  the  marvellous  news,  and  give  them  a 
hearty  welcome.  But  the  first  night  was  a  special  night 
on  board  the  Aurora.  No  savants  were  admitted  into  the 
saloon  that  evening. 

The  arrival  of  the  Aurora  off  Wick  had  been  telegraphed 
to  Aberdeen,  and  I  need  hardly  say  that  the  nearest  and 
dearest  were  all  waiting  in  the  Granite  City  to  receive 
them. 

Uncle  Tom — bold  Captain  Junk — never  looked  jollier, 
nor  Miss  Dewar  happier  and  healthier;  while  Laird  M'lvor 
had  come  all  the  way  down  from  the  Highlands  to  greet 
the  wanderers'  return,  and  he  looked  as  radiant  and  rosy 
as  a  full  moon  orient. 

Next  forenoon,  in  company  with  Colin  and  the  dogs,  Olaf 
set  out  for  the  humble  little  cottage  in  Constitution  Street. 


240  TO   GREENLAND   AND   THE   POLE. 

Little  Katie  fairly  rushed  into  Olaf's  arms,  crying  one 
moment,  and  laughing  through  her  tears  the  next. 

"But,  of  course,"  she  said,  "I  knew  you  would  come 
back." 

"  How  did  you  know,  dear  ? "  asked  Olaf. 

"0,  you  know,  I  prayed  for  you;  every  night  too.  O 
yes,  every  night.  So  God  brought  you  back." 


BOOK    III. 

AT    THE    NORTH    POLE. 


CHAPTER  I. 


ryou  ask  the  average  Briton  a  question,  either  historical 
or  geographical,  he  will  very  likely  answer  you  off-hand, 
in  that  happy-go-lucky,  hit-or-miss  sort  of  manner,  which  is 
so  characteristic  of  honest  John  Bull. 

His  ignorance  of  even  comparatively  modern  history  does 
not  interfere  with  his  appetite  in  the  least.  The  absence 
from  his  mind  or  memory  of  anything  like  a  correct  idea  of 
geography,  or  the  lay  of  the  land,  never  keeps  him  awake  at 
night. 

When  at  school  he  had  to  study  the  maps,  perhaps  even 
the  globes,  and  to  this  day  he  is  quite  certain  there  are  such 
things  as  parallels  of  latitude  and  lines  of  longitude,  and  he 
has  even  heard  of  the  meridian  which  passes  through 
Greenwich  ;  but  he  may  tell  you  he  never  saw  it,  though 
he  has  been  there.  The  Cape  of  Good  Hope  lies  south  of 
us,  Australia  under  our  feet,  and  Spitsbergen  is  away  up  in 
the  icy  north,  mostly  all  other  places  are  abroad  some- 
where. If  this  answer  doesn't  suit  you,  you  may  go  to 
Bradshaw,  or  Bcedeker,  or  elsewhere. 

He  learned  dates  at  school,  too,  and  kings  and  queens, 
and  battles,  especially  Waterloo,  which  is  more  than  merely 
a  London  railway  station. 

"  But,"  I've  heard  him  say,  "  who  did  reign  before  Queen 

(988)  Q 


242         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

Victoria?  whom  did  she  succeed1?  was  it  a  George  or  one 
of  the  Williams?  Strange,  I  should  forget;  but,  there — 
never  mind!" 

Or — "Who  was  Charles  the  Pretender?  wasn't  he  a  son  of 
George  II.,  or  was  he  some  distant  relation  of  the  Duke  of 
Cumberland?  0  well,  what  does  it  matter!  Pass  the 
walnuts." 

Now,  boys,  if  you  ask  your  own  bosom  friend  in  what 
direction  Edinburgh  or  Newcastle  lies  from  London,  he 
will  very  likely  tell  you — "  0,  due  north  ". 

But  it  does  nothing  of  the  sort;  and  if  you  will  come 
with  me  for  a  minute  in  a  voyage  of  the  mind,  I  will  take 
you  along  the  meridian  from  London  right  away  to  the 
North  Pole,  at  a  far  greater  rate  of  speed  than  that  at 
which  our  hero  Reynolds  is  likely  to  get  there,  if  ever  he 
gets  there  at  all. 

Well,  we  leave  Greenwich,  and  off  we  go.  The  meridian 
line  takes  us  pretty  close  to  Cambridge,  and  to  Lincoln 
also,  and  though  we  may  get  a  peep  at  Scarborough,  it  will 
be  but  a  peep,  for  the  line  lands  us  in  the  sea  at  Flam- 
borough  Head.  We  don't  get  wet,  because  this  is  merely  a 
voyage  of  the  mind;  so  northwards  still  we  float. 

We  do  not  go  anywhere  near  Newcastle,  we  are  farther 
still  from  Edinburgh  and  Aberdeen ;  we  do  not  touch  at 
the  Orkney  Islands  even,  and  we  get  but  a  very  hazy  glance 
at  Shetland.  Then  we  are  out  and  away  in  the  lonesome 
and  wild  North  Sea.  When  we  reach  the  Arctic  circle  we 
are  about  midway  between  Iceland  and  the  surf-beaten 
rocks  on  the  Norwegian  shore,  but  many  hundreds  of  miles 
from  either.  Continuing  our  journey  due  north  we  gain 
the  latitude  of  the  Isle  of  Jan  May  en,  in  71°  N.,  but  so  far 
away  is  it  on  our  port  beam,  that  though  the  summit  of  its 
lofty  cone-shaped  mountain  rises  far  into  the  blue  sky,  we 
catch  not  a  glimpse  of  it;  and  'twixt  76°  and  80°  N.  lati- 
tude, the  mainland  of  Spitzbergen,  with  all  its  rank  and  file 
of  rocky  ice-girt  isles  around  it,  is  left  ten  degrees  to  the 
east  of  us.  We  are  almost  in  an  unknown  sea  now.  It  is 
the  sea  of  ice — the  great  sea  of  palseocrystic  ice.  But  we 
do  not  care,  because  we  are  sailing  through  the  sky  just 


FITTING   OUT  FOR  THE  POLE.  243 

now — on,  and  on,  and  on,  the  degrees  of  longitude  getting 
less  and  less  in  length — the  east  drawing  nearer  and  nearer 
to  the  west — till  they  meet  in  the  centre,  and  lo !  we  have 
reached  the  pole. 

Here  we  stand,  you  and  I,  reader;  the  heavens  ahove  us, 
the  whole  earth  beneath  our  feet.  No  more  east,  no  more 
west,  no  more  north !  Is  it  not  wonderful  ?  Point  in  which 
ever  direction  you  have  a  mind  to,  and  you  are  pointing 
south.  You  cannot  make  any  mistake  in  your  geography 
now.  At  home,  in  merrie  England,  we  talk  of  America  as 
lying  to  the  west  and  India  to  the  east  of  us.  But  at  the 
pole,  here,  it  is  different;  America  lies  south,  and  England 
lies  south,  and  so  does  India  itself,  and  every  other  place. 

Now,  take  a  glance  at  your  map,  please. 

But  our  friend  Reynolds  had  no  intention  of  trying  to 
reach  the  North  Pole  by  sailing  or  flying  along  the  meridian 
line  as  you  and  I  have  done.  His  plans,  however,  were  all 
thought  out,  well  considered,  and  arranged  before  he  even 
thought  of  building  the  ship  that  he  believed  would  carry 
him  there,  and  that  he  hoped  would  bring  him  safely  home 
again,  after  years,  mayhap,  spent  in  the  most  dismal  regions 
of  the  north. 

Reynolds  lectured  here,  there,  and  everywhere ;  Reynolds 
talked  at  dinners,  and  suppers,  and  conversaziones;  Rey- 
nolds wrote  in  the  dailies  and  magazines  of  worth;  but 
Reynolds  told  Joe  and  Captain  Junk,  with  whom  he  was 
wont  to  dine  or  sup  in  a  quiet  way,  that  he  might  lecture, 
talk,  or  write  till  he  was  blinder  than  a  bodkin — which  has 
only  one  eye,  you  know — without  getting  people  to  believe 
that  his  idea  of  drifting  across  the  Polar  regions  with  the 
Arctic  current  was  anything  else  save  the  phantom  of  a 
mind  diseased. 

So  long  as  Reynolds  wrote  about  his  adventures  in 
Greenland,  or  lectured  thereon,  everybody  was  willing  to 
read  him  or  to  listen  to  him,  but  when  he  got  on  to  the 
North  Pole,  as  they  phrased  it,  men-folks  nodded  or  shook 
their  heads,  and  old  ladies  sighed. 

0,  yes ;  I  do  not  say  that  he  had  not  many  good  and  true 
friends,  who,  although  they  told  him  to  his  face  that  his 


244          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

attempt  at  crossing  the  pole  would  be  dangerous  and  risky 
in  the  extreme,  made  no  actual  attempt  to  dissuade  him 
therefrom. 

Reynolds  and  our  other  heroes  laughed  at  the  idea  of 
danger  and  foolhardiness  and  all  the  rest  of  it. 

"  You  may  take  the  ice,  as  you  purpose,"  said  one  well- 
intentioned  savant,  "but  even  if  you  get  into  this  current, 
which,  pardon  me,  I  believe  has  no  existence  except  in  your 
brain,  are  you  at  all  certain  whither  it  will  take  you?" 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Reynolds  smiling. 

"  It  may  carry  you  against  unknown  lands  in  the  very 
far  north." 

"Very  probably." 

"  And  deposit  you  there  like  a  bundle  of  firewood  till  you 
starve  to  death." 

"  I  shall  be  provisioned  for  six  years ;  so,  I  guess  that  in 
that  time  I  and  my  brave  fellows  would  manage  somehow 
to  wriggle  southwards.  But,"  added  Reynolds,  "long  before 
we  can  get  into  any  of  the  terrible  dangers  that  you  and 
others  speak  about,  we  shall  discover  whether  or  not  there 
appears  to  be  a  current  sufficiently  strong  to  carry  us 
onwards." 

"And,  if  not?" 

"Why,  then  we  shall  return.  We  shall  have  failed,  and 
we  will  boldly  own  up  to  it." 

But  the  best  friend  that  Reynolds  had  was  Lord  Day- 
break. He  was  the  friend  in  need,  and  without  his  kindly 
aid,  I  doubt  very  much  whether  our  great  Arctic  hero  would 
have  been  able  to  build  his  sturdy  barque. 

The  good  yacht  Aurora  had  reached  Aberdeen  late  in 
September.  The  keel  of  Reynolds's  barque,  in  which  he 
hoped  to  cross  the  pole  or  perish  in  the  attempt,  was  laid 
early  in  November,  arid  from  that  time  till  late  in  the 
summer  that  followed  the  clang  of  hammers  in,  on,  and 
around  her  was  deafening,  incessant. 

She  was  completed  and  launched  and  baptized  in  Sep- 
tember, just  within  the  year  from  the  day  her  keel  was 
placed  on  the  stocks. 


FITTING   OUT  FOR  THE   POLE.  245 

"  Captain  Reynolds,"  said  Olaf,  about  a  month  before  the 
barque  was  sent  off  the  slips,  "  have  you  arranged  with  any 
great  gun  of  a  lady  to  baptize  and  name  our  bonnie  ship?" 

"Haven't  thought  of  it,  Olaf." 

"No  duchess  or  great  lady  of  title?" 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  Olaf,  I'm  not  over-fond  of  empty 
titles.  But  why  do  you  ask?" 

"Because  I  have  a  little  sweetheart — that's  my  fun! — but 
she  is  a  sweetly  pretty  wee  maiden  of  some  thirteen  summers, 
and,  sir,  she  saved  my  life,  or  nursed  me  back  to  life — " 

"Olaf,  my  lad,  don't  say  another  word;  your  Katie  Jack- 
son will  do." 

"More  of  his  madness!"  said  the  dowager  Lady  Grumps, 
who  thought  that  her  daughter,  an  angular,  but  titled  spinster 
of  thirty  summers-  and  winters — ought  to  have  had  the 
honour  of  naming  the  barque.  "  More  of  his  madness !  A 
chit  of  a  child  to  name  the  ship;  a  child,  too,  that  no  one 
ever  heard  of.  Well,  never  mind!" 

Katie  Jackson  was  dressed  in  white,  with  a  pink  rose  in 
her  bonnie  dark  hair,  and  everybody — bar  the  dowager — 
complimented  her,  while  some  elderly  gentlemen  kissed  her. 

The  day  on  which  the  Fear  Not  took  the  \vater  was  a  very 
lovely  one,  and  she  slipped  away  without  a  hitch,  amidst  the 
cheering  of  tens  of  thousands  of  people.  Indeed,  the  whole 
of  Aberdeen  seemed  to  have  turned  out  for  the  occasion,  and 
to  have  brought  his  wife  and  daughters  down  as  well. 

Now,  I  have  told  you  what  Reynolds  did  not,  and  could 
not,  do,  in  order  to  reach  the  Pole,  because  he  had  no 
wings.  Now,  let  the  hero  himself  speak  of  his  intentions. 

The  walnuts  and  wine  were  on  the  table,  around  which 
sat  jolly  Captain  Junk,  Lord  Daybreak,  Joseph,  Olaf,  and 
Colin;  Sigurd  had  gone  home,  and  Rudland  was  from  home. 
Charts  and  maps  were  spread  out  between  Reynolds,  Day- 
break, and  Captain  Junk. 

"  Look  here,  Captain  Jones,  we  shall  leave  this  harbour 
early  in  June  next,  and  bear  up  for  the  north  and  the  east. 
Indeed,  it  will  be  pretty  near  north  all  the  way,  till  we 
reach  a  latitude  of  about  68°,  when  we  will  bear  away  for 
the  Barent's  Sea,  that  washes  the  shores  of  Nova  Zembla. 


246         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

A  vessel  meets  me  at  the  island  of  Waigatz,  which,  a  glance 
at  the  map  will  show  you,  lies  to  the  south'ard  and  east  of 
Nova  Zembla.  This  ship  brings  me  coals — the  last  I  shall 
have.  Then  I  shall  steer  east  once  more,  as  well  and  as  easily 
as  the  ice,  if  there  be  much,  will  let  me.  At  the  Straits  of 
Yugor  I  hope  to  meet  a  trusty  fellow — a  Siberian — with 
dogs.  His  name  is  Lakoff. 

"On,  then,  through  the  Kara  Sea,  till  we  double  Cape 
Chalyuskin.  Here  it  is  on  the  map,  Captain  Jones.  East- 
ward still,  if  the  water  is  open,  to  Lena  Delta,  and  at  the 
mouth  of  a  river  about  here  I  shall  stay  to  take  in  more 
dogs. 

"  My  kind  friend,  Lord  Daybreak,  has  offered  to  go  be- 
fore and  to  meet  me  there  with  these  dogs,  and  starts  almost 
at  once.  His  adventures  will  be  worth  relating  during  the 
long,  dark  Arctic  night.  Yes,  he  is  coming  with  us." 

"  Well,  go  on,"  said  Uncle  Tom,  rubbing  his  hands. 

"  That  is  nearly  all,  Captain  Jones.  We  will  bear  up  for 
the  New  Siberian  Islands.  We  will  probably  work  to  the 
east  of  them,  then  head  for  the  Pole.  We  will  get  fast  in 
the  ice  now,  and  then — " 

"Then  float,  or  be  floated?" 

"That  is  it." 

"  Well,  it  seems  to  me  that  you  take  the  ice  at  the  back  of 
the  north  wind.  Right  at  the  other  side  of  the  Pole  from 
here." 

"That's  just  what  I  hope  to  do,"  said  Reynolds  laughing. 

Yes,  reader,  that  was  just  it.  And — now  glance  at  the 
map  once  more,  please — if  you  and  I  had  continued  straight 
on  across  the  Pole,  to  which  we  travelled  by  the  meridian 
line,  and  without  tickets,  we  should  have  eventually  come 
out  near  to  the  place  where  Reynolds  meant  to  take  the  ice 
and  trust  to  fate  and  fortune. 

There  is  always  such  a  bustle,  stir,  and  head-splitting  ex- 
citement and  botheration  when  a  ship  is  leaving  harbour  for 
any  length  of  time,  that  in  the  case  of  the  Fear  Not,  I  think, 
reader,  you  and  I  had  better  defer  our  inspection  of  the  ship 
and  her  fittings  till  all  the  visitors  are  gone,  till  the  last  tearful 


247 

farewell  has  been  spoken;  till  we  are  over  the  bar;  till  the 
rough  old  pilot  has  shaken  us  by  the  hand,  wished  us  God- 
speed, and  gone  bobbing  away  in  his  boat;  till  we  are  out 
and  away  on  the  clear  blue  summer  sea,  and  till  all  these 
boxes,  bags,  and  litter  have  been  stowed  away  in  their 
proper  places. 

As  the  vessel  steamed  away  to  the  north,  Colin  and  Olaf 
stood  on  the  quarter-deck,  and  their  lorgnettes  were  turned 
towards  the  Broad  Hill,  which  rose  green  and  bonnie  on  the 
links  'twixt  Dee  and  Don. 

The  hill  was  crowded.  They  could  see  the  people  waving 
caps  and  arms,  though  they  scarce  could  hear  them  shout. 
But  one  group  was  there  that  attracted  special  attention. 

"I  can  see  them  all,"  cried  Colin;  "dear  Auntie  and 
Uncle  M'lvor,  and  honest  old  Uncle  Tom." 

"  Yes;  and  beside  them  is  the  little  widow  and  'my  son 
John',  and — and  my  little  sweetheart,  Katie.  Heigh-ho! 
Colin,  I  wonder  if  we  will  ever,  ever  see  them  more." 

There  were  tears  in  Olaf's  eyes  that  he  took  no  pains  to 
conceal,  and  perhaps  that  was  the  reason  why  the  great 
Newfoundland,  Caesar,  jumped  up  and  licked  his  face,  and 
little  Keltic  raised  himself  as  high  as  his  knee. 

"  Cheer  up,  Olaf !  Here  comes  Eudland,  looking  as  happy 
as  a  king." 

Rudland  was  a  full-fledged  doctor  now,  and,  despite  his 
roving  propensities,  he  had  succeeded  in  taking  his  degree 
with  honours,  and  of  this  he  was  justly  proud. 

Eudland  came  forward  rubbing  his  hands  and  laughing. 

"Down,  Caesar,  down!  I  do  declare  the  dogs  seem  to 
know  we  are  going  back  once  more  to  the  great  white  land, 
or  rather  to  any  number  of  unknown  lands.  Well,  friends 
mine,  I  think  we  have  about  seen  the  last  of  Aberdeen  for 
a  time.  And  after  all  my  weary  studies  I'm  not  sorry." 

"  Well,  I  hope  you  won't  have  much  practice  among  us, 
Rud,  either  in  medicine  or  surgery." 

"  0,  depend  upon  it,  Colin,  I  won't  use  more  physic  than 
is  absolutely  necessary;  and  if  I  have  to  remove  your  leg, 
Joe,  I'll  do  it  so  that  you  will  be  actually  proud  to  show  the 
stump  all  the  days  and  years  of  your  life." 


248          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

Right  abreast  of  Fraserburgh  Reynolds  had  a  very  de- 
lightful meeting.  His  old  ship  Bladder-nose  was  just  bearing 
up  for  the  harbour,  and  to  all  appearance  she  was  full  to  the 
hatches.  There  was  no  time,  however,  to  go  on  board,  but 
signals  were  hoisted,  and  the  crews  of  both  vessels  manned 
the  rigging  and  gave  three  hearty  cheers. 

Next  morning  broke  gray  and  hazy  over  the  sea,  but  there 
was  now  no  land  in  sight.  As  the  wind  was  very  light,  and 
rather  ahead,  steam  was  still  kept  up,  though  Reynolds 
hoped  it  would  soon  blow  a  seven-knot  breeeze,  and  thus 
enable  him  to  save  the  coals. 

There  was  every  promise,  however,  of  its  being  a  warm 
and  sunny  day,  and,  indeed,  the  good  barque  seemed  loth 
to  leave  the  land  so  far  away,  for  she  was  doing,  under  full 
steam,  but  little  over  five  knots  an  hour. 

"  Well,  there  is  no  hurry,"  said  Reynolds  smiling,  as 
Joseph  put  the  log-line  back  in  its  place. 

The  day  after  this  was  the  Sabbath,  and  Reynolds  gave 
orders  for  a  sort  of  "muster  by  open  list",  as  we  call  it  on 
board  a  man-of-war,  at  which  everyone  on  board  must 
answer  to  his  name  as  it  is  read  out  by  an  officer.  This  was 
followed  by  a  general  inspection,  and  next  by  prayers,  or 
rather  church  service. 

Let  us — you  and  me,  reader — attend  the  muster  and  in- 
spection. Seeing  that,  all  told,  the  crew  numbered  but  fifteen 
men,  not  to  mention  the  "  twa  dogs  "  and  the  ship's  cat,  the 
muster  did  not  take  long.  The  inspection,  however,  occu- 
pied fully  an  hour. 

The  Fear  Not  was  by  no  means  a  large  vessel,  her  tonnage 
being  somewhat  under  400  register,  but  loaded  as  she  now 
was  with  coals  and  stores  she  must  have  been  well  nigh 
1000  tons. 

As  to  her  rig,  she  was  a  barque,  although  a  fore-and-aft 
schooner  like  that  in  which  Captain  Nansen  has  sailed  might 
have  been  handier.  A  barque,  every  British  boy  knows,  or 
ought  to  know,  is  square-rigged  as  to  her  fore  and  main-masts, 
merely  the  mizen  earring  fore-and-aft  sails. 

Her  engines  were  merely  auxiliary,  and  were  but  little 
over  200  horse-power.  She  had  two  engineers,  a  Scot  and  a 


THE    "FEAR   NOT".  249 

Welshman,  both  healthy,  hardy,  and  young,  and  Reynolds 
had  proved  before  he  sailed  that  they  were  also  well-informed 
and  knew  their  duty. 

The  saloon  lay  aft;  not  quite  so,  however,  the  captain's 
private  cabin  being  nearest  to  the  stern.  The  saloon  was 
not  large,  but  it  was  exceedingly  comfortable,  and,  inde- 
pendent of  the  captain's  cabin,  it  had  four  state-rooms  open- 
ing into  it.  These  were  occupied,  the  first  by  the  mate 
Joseph  and  the  doctor,  the  second  by  Colin  and  Olaf,  the 
third  by  Sigurd  and  the  two  engineers,  and  the  fourth  was 
reserved  for  Lord  Daybreak  when  he  should  come  on  board 
near  Lena  Delta.  Right  away  forward,  and  between  the 
engine-room  and  galley,  lived  the  other  men. 

Caesar  and  Keltic  and  the  ship's  cat  were  graciously  per- 
mitted to  choose  their  own  sleeping  berths.  The  cat 
made  her  bed  on  the  captain's  chair,  Keltic  preferred  to  curl 
up  with  Svolto  forward,  while  great  Caesar  was  evidently  of 
opinion  that  the  fourth  cabin — his  lordship's — was  intended 
for  him,  and  he  took  possession  accordingly.  I  may  as  well 
state  here  at  once  that  when  Lord  Daybreak  did  at  last 
come  on  board  he  was  warmly  welcomed  by  Caesar,  and 
allowed  at  night  to  take  possession  of  his  own  bunk,  the 
honest  dog  having  a  goat-skin  rug  on  the  floor  thereof. 

To  describe  the  fittings  of  the  Fear  Not  I  might  borrow 
a  phrase  from  that  poetical  though  not  invariably  truthful 
being — the  house-agent,  and  state  that  she  was  furnished 
with  every  convenience  and  luxury. 

This  was  indeed  so,  for  not  only  were  the  saloon  and 
'tween-decks  ventilated  with  warm  air,  but  lit  up  with 
electric  light.  The  saloon  interiorly  was  beautifully  painted 
and  prettily  adorned.  The  stove  itself  was  a  work  of  art. 
Then  there  was  a  nice  little  library,  well  filled  with  well- 
chosen  but  small  books,  besides  a  yacht  piano  and  a  violin. 
Indeed,  both  engineers  had  been  chosen  because,  in  addi- 
tion to  a  perfect  knowledge  of  their  profession,  they  were 
accomplished  musicians.  Then  both  Olaf  and  Colin  could 
play  the  piano. 

As  for  food:  independent  of  everything  they  had  room 
for  in  the  shape  of  ordinary  provisions,  they  carried  con- 


250          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

densed  and  tinned  foods  of  all  kinds,  and  enough  to  last  for 
five  long  years. 

Need  I  say  more? 

Their  dress1?  Well,  of  clothing  they  had  no  lack,  but  all 
was  light,  all  handy,  and  all  of  wool,  or  wool  and  fur.  Even 
their  tents  were  as  light  as  possible  consonant  with  strength 
and  durability. 

The  inspection  being  over,  all  hands  that  could  be  spared 
from  duty  were  rung  into  the  saloon,  and  Reynolds  himself 
conducted  the  service. 

It  was  simple  in  the  extreme.  There,  before  him,  lay  a 
Bible,  a  book  of  prayer,  and  a  volume  of  well-chosen 
sermons.  What  more  was  needed1?  Only  the  assurance 
given  to  them  in  Scripture  that  "where  two  or  three  are 
gathered  together  in  My  name  there  am.  I  in  the  midst  of  them". 

So  the  first  Sunday  at  sea  passed  quietly  by,  and  the 
summer  sun  sank  low  in  the  west,  finally  disappearing  about 
nine  o'clock  amidst  a  beauty  and  brilliancy  of  cloudscape 
that  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  surpass  even  in  foreign 
lands.  Five  days  passed  slowly  by,  and  still  the  weather 
continued  fine.  Slowly,  I  say,  because  all  hands  had  not 
yet  quite  settled  down  to  the  new  life,  and  memories  of  sad 
farewells  and  parting  tears  still  kept  crowding  into  their 
minds. 

The  good  ship  was  now  well  up  in  the  Northern  Sea,  and 
probably  near  the  latitude  of  the  Faroe  Islands.  But  the 
summer  birds  had  not  yet  screamed  their  last,  long  farewell. 
Gulls  and  kittywakes  still  flew  around  the  ship  in  scores. 
Mother  Carey's  chickens,  too,  darted  and  skimmed  about 
here,  there,  and  everywhere,  and  many  sea-birds  common 
only  to  Faroe,  Iceland,  or  Northern  Norway  paid  them 
visits,  much  to  Olaf  s  joy. 

"  They  look  so  homelike,  you  know,  Colin,"  he  said. 

"Well,  perhaps,"  said  Colin.  "I  would  rather  see  a 
sparrow,"  he  added.  "Hullo!  Joe,  why  don't  you  smile?" 

"0!"  said  Joe,  "I  can't  be  always  laughing,  can  I?" 

"  Joseph,  you  old  rogue !"  cried  Olaf,  "  we're  going  to  have 
a  gale  of  wind,  I  see  it  in  your  eye." 


AT   THE   MERCY   OF   GOD.  251 

"  No  need  for  a  barometer,  then,"  said  Joseph,  laughing 
now.  "Ah!  here  comes  the  captain." 

The  barque  had  been  under  full  sail  for  several  days,  the 
fires  being  let  out,  and  till  now  everything  seemed  snug 
enough,  everything  going  well. 

"  Yes,  Joseph,  I  have  just  had  a  look  at  the  glass.  Well, 
you  must  take  in  sail,  I  suppose,  though  it  seems  almost 
a  pity." 

"Better  be  sure  than  sorry,  sir." 

At  that  very  moment  the  sea,  far  off  towards  the  horizon, 
became  darker  and  rougher,  and  in  ten  minutes  or  less  the 
ship  gave  her  first  short,  angry  jerk  to  leeward,  and  the 
wind  began  to  moan  ominously  through  rigging  and 
shrouds.  The  storm  was  coming. 

"All  hands  shorten  sail!" 

"Away  aloft!" 

All  hands  on  board  the  Fear  Not,  remember,  meant  engi- 
neers and  officers  too,  everyone  who  could  handle  a  rope  or 
furl  a  sail, 


CHAPTER    II. 

AT    THE    MERCY    OF    GOD. 

O  pilot,  'tis  a  fearful  night ! 
There's  danger  on  the  deep. 

A  GOOD  ship  and  well  handled!" 
When  at  sea  we  often  hear  these  words,  and  there 
is  comfort  in  them  even  to  the  heart  of  the  merest  tyro. 
But,  indeed,  tyroes  are  said  to  make  the  bravest  sailors. 
Ah !  it  is  not  bravery ;  it  is  mere  ignorance.  Such  persons 
have  not  been  long  enough  on  the  ocean  to  know  aught  of 
its  innumerable  dangers. 

But,  on  that  fearful  night,  when  the  brave  barque  Fear  Not 
was  scudding  before  the  storm,  with  scarce  a  stitch  of  canvas 
set,  save  that  which  was  necessary  to  keep  her  as  she  was 


252          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

going,  perhaps  there  was  not  a  single  soul  on  board,  that 
did  not  know  there  was  danger  on  the  deep.  Even  Svolto 
the  boy,  though  he  never  had  been  so  far  on  blue  water  be- 
fore, could  read  it  in  the  serious  looks  of  the  sailors. 

A  good  ship  and  well  handled !  True.  But  come  on  board 
the  Fear  Not  with  me  for  a  short  time — in  imagination. 
And  you  may  thank  Heaven  it  is  but  in  imagination.  We 
will  stagger  into  the  cabin  or  saloon  first,  into  which  open 
the  state-rooms  of  the  officers. 

There  is  not  a  soul  below  here  at  present,  for  all  hands 
are  on  deck.  There  is  not  a  soul  below;  that  is,  unless  you 
are  generous  enough  to  believe  that  the  pussy  who  sleeps 
uneasily  in  the  captain's  big  chair,  and  the  honest  dog  who 
has  curled  up  in  Daybreak's  berth  have  souls.  We  stagger 
into  the  cabin  then,  and  when  we  attempt  to  sit  down  easily 
on  one  of  the  cushioned  lockers  that  represent  sofas  around 
the  big  table,  we  are  roughly  thrown  thereon.  Our  eyes 
naturally  are  attracted  to  the  compass  that  swings  in  gimbals 
beneath  the  skylight.  It  is  a  kind  of  tell-tale,  by  which  we 
can  measure  the  awful  angles  that  the  vessel  is  making  with 
the  plane  of  the  ocean;  her  pitching  and  plunging,  her  heel- 
ing, her  careenings  to  leeward,  her  uncertain  struggles  to 
starboard;  her  jerking,  tossing,  and  pitiful  wallowing  in  the 
dark  troughs  between  the  mountain-seas. 

Down  below  here,  although  at  no  time  is  the  wild  roaring 
of  the  wind  through  rigging  and  cordage  absent  from  our 
ears,  we  cannot  but  listen  to  the  signs — sighs,  I  may  say— 
of  distress,  the  strained  and  tortured  barque  is  making. 
She  creaks  and  groans  in  every  timber.  The  noise  is  in- 
describable, far  from  pleasant,  far,  indeed,  from  reassuring, 
but  high  above  it  sometimes  rises  the  quick,  uncertain  rattle 
of  the  rudder  chains.  And  now  and  again,  as  we  sit  here 
holding  on  to  the  big  table,  that  threatens  every  moment  to 
burst  its  lashings  and  batter  us  to  death  against  the  bulk- 
heads, there  comes  a  steadiness  in  the  ship  that  is  positively 
alarming.  She  is  engulfed  by  a  green  sea,  swallowed  up 
as  it  were.  For  a  time  we  hear  not  the  wind's  wild  wail, 
nor  even  the  groaning  of  the  tortured  timbers.  We  are 
sinking,  we  think — going  down,  down,  down  to  the  black 


AT   THE   MERCY   OF   GOD.  253 

bottom  of  the  ocean.  But  next  moment  the  good  barque 
shakes  herself  free  once  more,  and  the  rolling  and  turmoil 
and  shrieking  and  creaking  go  on  as  before. 

Thud !  thud !  Do  you  hear  the  waves  how  they  buffet  her? 
She  trembles  all  over  like  a  spirited  steed  in  fear  or  sudden 
fright. 

It  is  indeed  a  fearful  night ! 

We  lean  back  now  as  well  as  we  can,  with  faces  upturned, 
to  listen  to  the  wind.  Every  nautical  writer  attempts  to 
describe  this  sound.  Every  nautical  writer  tries  in  vain. 
But  there  is  one  thing  no  listener  can  help  noticing,  and 
that  is  the  inconstancy  of  its  force,  the  ever-recurring  re- 
missions or  abatements  in  its  exceeding  violence.  At  one 
moment  you  think  it  is  about  to  die  down;  it  seems  to  have 
retired  for  a  time.  Yes,  for  a  time,  but  it  is  only  to  gather 
strength  apparently;  for  next  minute  it  is  roaring  and  howl- 
ing around  the  vessel,  as  if  the  very  air  were  filled  with 
demons  bent  on  wrenching  up  every  bolt  and  stay,  bent  on 
snapping  the  masts  by  the  board,  bent  on  sinking  the  ap- 
parently doomed  ship  beneath  the  maddened  waves. 

But  let  us  now  venture  on  deck,  holding  on  fearfully 
as  we  climb  the  companion  stairs.  The  ship  is  battened 
down,  but  here  is  hole  beneath  this  tarpaulin.  The  ship 
makes  a  plunge  as  we  reach  the  deck,  and  we  are  ejected 
like  a  stone  from  a  catapult.  Down  to  leeward,  and  lucky 
we  think  ourselves,  when  we  catch  the  rigging  and  hang  on 
for  life.  It  is  not  black-dark  to-night!  There  is  a  moon 
yonder  behind  the  rioting  clouds.  She  is  never  seen,  but 
just  suspected.  Yet  her  light  is  sufficient  to  reveal  the 
racing  foam-crested  mountain-seas,  the  raging,  boiling,  storm- 
tormented  waves.  They  tower  in  front  of  the  barque  as 
she  makes  those  maddened  plunges;  they  curl  alongside  of 
her,  high  as  the  maintop  itself,  and  as  she  careens  to  leeward 
the  very  yard-arms  seem  to  rake  the  waters,  and  the  green 
seas  pour  in  over  her  bulwarks  till  she  is  all  but  swamped. 

All  this  we  note  during  a  lull.  But  lo !  back  rushes  the 
demon  of  the  storm,  and  now  all  is  mist  and  spray  and 
froth  and  smother.  We  feel  we  must  let  go  our  hold, 
though  to  do  so  is  death— instant,  terrible.  We  are  gasping 


254         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

for  breath ;  we  are  drowning.  0,  mercy  on  us,  how  the  wind 
shrieks  and  howls;  and,  mercy  on  us,  how  cruelly  the  waves 
dart  from  stem  to  stern !  We  are  —  thank  Heaven,  there 
is  a  lull  once  more!  We  see  a  yellow  glimmer  high  up 
among  the  driving  clouds,  a  kind  of  smudge  like  dead 
gold  that  we  know  must  be  the  moon.  We  think  of  the 
stars  that  are  far  beyond  the  clouds  shining  bright  and 
clear,  and  we  take  heart  of  grace,  and  hope. 

If  we  are  wise  we  will  think  of  something  else;  we  will 
think  of  something  even  beyond  the  stars — of  Heaven  itself. 

Tis  indeed  a  fearful  night;  but  are  we  at  the  mercy  of 
those  threatening  waves?  No;  we  are  at  the  mercy  of  God. 

I  began  this  chapter  with  the  words — "  a  good  ship  and 
well  handled  ".  Yes,  the  captain  and  the  mate — mere  dark 
shapes,  by  the  way — are  sailors  good  and  true.  The  two 
men  at  the  helm  will  do  all  that  British  men  can  do,  and 
yet  for  all  this,  we  are  at  the  mercy  of  God. 

For  there  are  other  ships  at  sea  to-night  as  well  as  we, 
and  not  far  off,  perhaps.  During  the  fierceness  of  each 
recurring  squall,  when  all  is  a  mist  and  a  blurr,  when  the 
steersmen  could  not  even  see  the  compass,  what  prevented 
us  from  colliding  with  that  ship,  which,  unknown  to  us, 
went  driving  past  our  bows'?  The  mercy  of  God! 

What  saves  the  masts  that  are  bending  before  the  gale 
like  fishing-rods  from  going  by  the  board,  from  leaping  over 
the  side  and  dragging  the  vessel,  perhaps,  on  her  beam- 
end  1  The  mercy  of  God ! 

What  prevents  the  rudder  chains  from  snapping,  the 
ship  from  broaching  to  ?  Again,  I  reply — the  mercy  of  God ! 

"  God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way, 

His  wonders  to  perform ; 
He  plants  His  footsteps  on  the  sea, 
And  rides  upon  the  storm." 

Ah!  reader  mine,  many  a  brave  ship  would  founder, 
many  a  bold  barque  be  lost,  despite  the  best  of  seamanship, 
were  it  not  for  the  mercy  of  God.  How  sweet  and  con- 
soling, then,  it  is  to  know  that,  even  on  the  wildest  night  at 
sea,  He  is  near  by,  and  can  listen  to  the  plaintive  prayer  of 


AT  THE  MERCY  OF  GOD.  255 

the  sailor  as  kindly  as  to  the  voice  of  the  landsman  on 
shore ! 

Though  it  had  been  a  fearful  night  the  wind  had  gone 
down  very  considerably  by  breakfast-time  next  day,  though 
the  sea  was  still  running  houses  high. 

The  Fear  Not  had  indeed  been  put  upon  her  mettle;  yet 
gallantly  she  had  withstood  the  brunt  of  the  storm,  and  the 
damage  done  on  deck  was  comparatively  small.  On  the 
weather  side  the  bulwarks  had  been  smashed  and  a  boat 
had  been  stove  in,  but  this  was  about  all  the  injury  to  be 
recorded  in  the  log. 

"  Well,  Joe,"  said  Eeynolds  as  he  seated  himself  at  table, 
"  what  do  you  think  of  her  now?" 

"Think  of  her?"  said  Joe  as  he  placed  the  log-slate  safe 
in  his  bunk  and  came  forth  into  the  saloon  with  a  smile  on 
his  face,  "I  think  of  her  now  as  I  did  from  the  first.  I 
wouldn't  mind  a  bit  facing  a  tornado  in  the  Fear  Not. 

"  Ah !  sir,"  he  continued,  taking  his  plate  of  fried  bacon 
and  eggs  from  the  steward,  "  if  she  behaves  all  along  among 
the  ice  as  she  did  last  night  she'll  do." 

"What  think  you,  doctor?" 

"Well,  you  see,"  said  Rudland  smiling,  "I  can't  say  that 
I  was  in  the  best  situation  for  judging  of  her  behaviour. 
You  must  know,  then,  that  I  turned  in  at  eight  o'clock,  and 
I've  only  just  turned  out." 

"Been  asleep  all  that  time?"  said  Colin  laughing. 

"  Sleeping  like  a  twopenny  top,  my  boy.  Now,  steward, 
bustle  around.  No,  thanks;  no  coffee  yet.  My  motto  is, 
strike  down  all  j^our  solids  first  before  you  touch  coffee  or 
tea.  Do  this  every  morning  regularly,  and  you'll  live  to  be 
a  hundred.  Steady!  Wo!  Doesn't  she  kick  just!" 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Joe,  and  as  he  spoke  he  handed  Henry, 
the  steward,  his  plate  for  a  second  helping,  "  I  suppose  I'd 
better  shake  out  a  reef  or  two  now  that  the  storm  seems 
over." 

Kudland  laughed  unceremoniously.  "I  guess,"  he  said, 
"you'll  want  to  shake  a  reef  out.  Are  you  aware,  mate, 
that  makes  your  sixth  egg?  Provisioned  for  five  years, 


256          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

aren't  we,  Captain  Reynolds?  Ah!  that  is  a  good  thing. 
Take  comfort,  Joe." 

"  Well,  Joseph,"  said  the  captain,  "  if  you  think  she'll 
stand  more  canvas,  shake  out  all  the  reefs  if  you  like, 
only—" 

"Only  what,  sir?" 

"  Don't  carry  away  anything.  We  don't  want  to  have  to 
rig  juries  so  early  in  the  voyage  out.  Going  home  it  wron't 
matter  so  much." 

"  You  leave  it  to  me  to-day,  sir,  and  see  how  the  Fear  Not 
and  I  get  on.  The  ship  hardly  knows  me  yet.  Stop  a  bit. 
Another  cup  of  coffee,  Henry." 

The  doctor  groaned. 

"I  think,  Joe,"  he  said,  "you  had  better  retire  now  and 
— get  your  reefs  out." 

Joseph  was  a  bold  man  and  a  good  sailor,  and  if  the  Fear 
Not  did  not  know  him  then,  she  very  soon  did.  But,  con- 
sidering the  way  in  which  the  good  ship  behaved  when  the 
mate  had  the  handling  of  her,  I  rather  think  she  liked 
him. 

There  often  comes  a  spell  of  what  is  called  dirty  weather 
after  a  storm  like  that  which  the  Fear  Not  had  just  weathered, 
and  the  week  that  followed  that  fearful  night  certainly  did 
not  disprove  the  rule. 

However,  no  one  grumbled,  for  the  simple  reason  that 
though  the  wind  was  high  it  was  fair.  It  blew  from  the 
west,  but  some  points  abaft  the  beam,  and  by  the  time  it 
lowered  sufficiently  to  carry  every  inch  of  cloth  that  could 
be  set,  the  Fear  Not  had  rounded  North  Cape,  and  was  scud- 
ding away  across  Barents  Sea. 

It  had  not  taken  long  to  repair  the  boat  and  the  bulwarks, 
for  no  very  serious  mischief  had  been  done.  By  this  time, 
too,  everyone,  both  fore  and  aft,  had  settled  down  to  life  on 
board.  Even  Dr.  Kudland  Syme  declared  that  Neptune  had 
sent  back  his  sea  legs,  that  he  had  not  seen  since  he  came 
home  in  the  Aurora. 

Since  the  very  bad  weather  had  changed  to  good,  even 
Caesar  was  happy.  He  had  sustained  several  severe  falls 


AT  THE  MERCY   OF  GOD.  257 

while  it  blew,  but  he  could  race  about  the  decks  now  with- 
out fear,  and  have  glorious  fun  with  his  wooden  ball  and 
his  wooden  belaying-pin.  The  crowning  ambition  of  Keltic's 
life  appeared  to  be  the  management  of  Caesar's  great  ball. 
In  Caesar's  absence  he  had  many  and  many  a  try  at  mouth- 
ing it,  but  all  in  vain. 

"Will  my  mouth  never  get  wider?"  he  wondered. 

Well,  there  really  was  a  considerable  probability  that 
one  day  he  would  dislocate  his  lower  jaw  altogether.  That 
would  make  a  case  for  Dr.  Syme,  who  seemed  to  lament  his 
lack  of  professional  employment.  At  least  he  pretended  to. 

The  doctor  would  look  at  his  messmates  every  morning 
scrutinizingly,  and  then  heave  a  deep  sigh. 

"  Why,"  he  would  say,  "you  are  all  looking  as  wholesome 
and  healthy  as  mountain  daisies  on  a  May  morning.  Joseph, 
you  don't  feel  any  aches  or  pains  anywhere  around,  do 
you  1  Steward,  let  the  mate  have  some  more  ham  and  eggs. 
Joseph,  my  hopes  are  centred  in  you." 

Perhaps  the  happiest  mortal  on  board  the  Fear  Not  was  the 
ship's  cat,  Pussy  Baudrons.  You  see,  pussy  was  a  philoso- 
pher. She  lived  in  the  saloon,  because  it  was  the  best  place. 
She  permitted  the  captain  to  nurse  arid  cuddle  her  of  an 
evening  because  he  was  the  captain,  and  she  knew  it,  and 
knew  that  the  easy-chair  belonged  to  him;  she  was  friendly 
with  the  dogs,  because  it  was  wisest  so  to  be;  and  she  was 
honest  because  honesty  was  the  best  policy,  as  even  now 
she  had  proved  from  experience. 

Pussy  never  went  on  deck  when  the  decks  were  wet, 
having  a  great  regard  for  her  pumps,  the  only  ones  she  pos- 
sessed. But  in  fine  weather,  and  when  the  sun  shone,  she 
trotted  up  the  companion  and  walked  the  weather-side  of 
the  quarter-deck  with  Captain  Reynolds,  or  with  Joe.  No, 
never  with  Olaf  or  Colin.  They  were  merely  boys,  she 
would  have  told  you,  adding  that  boys,  even  at  their  best, 
are  bothersome.  You  see,  then,  that  Pussy  Baudrons  was 
wise  in  her  day  and  generation;  and  most  cats  are. 

The  weather  continued  moderately  fine.  I  should  have 
said  "  very  fine  indeed  ",  had  it  not  been  for  the  thick  white 
mists  that  every  other  day  rolled  up  and  quite  enveloped 

(988)  R 


258         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

the  vessel  from  stem  to  stern.  So  dense,  indeed,  were  these 
at  times  that  it  was  quite  impossible  while  standing  by  the 
bowsprit  to  see  the  binnacle,  and  even  the  man  at  the  wheel 
looked  like  a  spectre. 

At  such  times  as  these,  two  men  were  kept  constantly  on 
the  outlook  both  by  day  and  by  night. 

My  clever  young  reader,  I  know,  will  now  bring  me  up 
with  a  round  turn.  "  What  good,"  he  will  say,  "  could  two 
men  or  even  half  a  dozen  be  on  the  outlook,  in  a  fog  so 
dense  that  they  could  scarcely  see  to  count  their  toes  if 
their  feet  were  bare?" 

Well,  I  confess  to  you  that  at  such  times  the  expression 
"  on  the  outlook"  is  merely  a  figure  of  speech.  It  is  used 
none  the  less,  and  the  men  are  used  too,  and  their  duty  is 
to  make  the  best  use  they  possibly  can,  not  only  of  their 
sense  of  sight,  but  that  of  hearing  and  feeling  as  well. 

I  will  give  you  an  example. 

It  was  one  day  when  steering  northwards  and  west  that 
early  in  the  forenoon  a  dense  fog  came  tumbling  across  the 
sea,  blotting  out  the  sunshine,  blotting  out  the  sky  and 
even  the  waves.  It  was  all  a  grope  in  the  dark  now,  but 
still  the  ship  held  on  her  course,  and  no  sail  was  taken  in. 

"Jack,"  said  one  of  the  men  on  the  outlook,  "isn't  it 
getting  cold?"  He  spoke  sharply  and  suddenly. 

"  Yes,"  said  Jack;  "and  listen,  Bob." 

Bob  listened. 

And  both  could  distinctly  hear  the  sound  of  breaking 
water  somewhere  on  the  weather  bow. 

"  Ice !  ice !  ice ! "  was  their  shout,  followed  quickly  by  the 
trampling  of  feet  on  the  quarter-deck,  as  the  officer  rushed 
to  help  the  man  at  the  helm,  shouting: 

"  Hard  a  port !     Hard— hard !     Eeady  about ! " 

None  too  soon. 

No,  for  next  minute  the  ice  loomed  out  on  the  weather 
quarter  like  the  green-footed  ghost  it  was,  and  the  very 
spray  from  the  breaking  waves  being  dashed  on  board.  A 
few  feet  farther,  and  the  ship  would  have  struck.  Another 
coat  of  paint,  one  sailor  said,  would  have  fouled  her. 


AT  THE  MERCY  OF  GOD.  259 

Not  only  Colin  and  Olaf  would  have  liked  to  have  had  a 
peep  at  Nova  Zembla,  but  all  on  board. 

It  was  fated  to  be  otherwise.  The  fog  refused  to  lift,  and 
Captain  Eeynolds  determined  to  keep  well  clear  of  the  land. 
So  the  course  was  altered,  and  the  Fear  Not  kept  farther 
southwards. 

Though  still  far  away  from  the  main  pack,  or  great  ice- 
fields of  the  north,  they  soon  found  that  there  was  plenty  of 
ice  about,  and  that  some  of  it  was  of  a  highly  dangerous 
character.  When  the  sun  shone — and  at  this  season  of  the 
year  it  never  sets  in  these  latitudes, — the  danger  from  even 
the  heaviest  and  greenest  of  wave-washed  bergs  could  be 
avoided,  but  when  a  dense  mist  covered  all  the  sea,  then 
the  risk  was  considerable. 

The  Fear  Not  passed  daily  almost  through  streams  of 
every  description.  Some  of  these  were  composed  of  slush, 
and  slush  alone.  The  waves  herein  might  be  high,  but  they 
were  as  smooth  as  though  millions  of  tons  of  oil  were 
floating  over  the  surface  of  the  ocean. 

While  passing  through  these  streams  or  fields  of  slush,  the 
progress  of  the  ship  was  scarcely  two  knots  an  hour,  and 
the  sound  made  by  bows  and  sides  was  very  peculiar.  Say 
"Hush — sh — sh — sh!"  reader,  as  long  as  you  have  breath, 
and  you  have  it  exactly.  It  was  not  a  harsh  sound  by  any 
means,  just  that  long-drawn  whispered  "Hush — sh — sh!" 
Simply  that,  and  nothing  more. 

The  next  stream  might  perhaps  be  one  of  larger  bergs  or 
floes,  covered  with  snow,  and,  as  is  usual  in  these  cases,  the 
Fear  Not  was  always  headed  for  the  bigger  of  the  pieces, 
and  all  its  lesser  brothers  and  sisters  were  free  to  bump 
against  and  batter  the  poor  ship's  sides  or  hull  as  much  as 
they  pleased.  When  passing  through  a  heavy  stream  like 
this,  the  noise,  as  heard  down  below  in  the  saloon,  was 
deafening,  fearful.  You  would  have  fancied  that  the  good 
ship  was  being  smashed  to  atoms  by  Nasmyth  hammers. 

Pussy  did  not  like  it,  I  do  assure  you;  nor  did  Keltic. 
The  former  took  refuge  in  the  captain's  easy- chair,  but 
Keltic  used  to  run  straight  forward  and  go  to  bed,  that  is, 
he  hid  himself  in  Svolto's  bunk  until  all  the  row  was  over. 


260          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

Then  he  would  appear  on  deck  again,  looking  very  much 
ashamed  of  himself  for  having  given  way  to  such  silly 
fears. 

They  also  came  across  streams  of  pancake  ice.  But  it  was 
the  great  square  and  tall  icebergs  that  they  really  dreaded 
to  meet,  and  of  these  they  encountered  not  a  few. 

So  numerous,  indeed,  did  they  become  at  one  time  that 
Captain  Reynolds  had  thoughts  of  getting  up  steam,  so  as  to 
be  in  a  better  position  for  backing  straight  off  from  any 
threatening  berg  they  might  get  too  close  to. 

It  is,  in  my  opinion,  safer  for  a  ship  of  the  strength  of  the 
Fear  Not  to  back  astern  at  full  speed  than  to  come  round. 
So  strong  was  the  Fear  Not,  that  a  stem-on  collision  would 
scarcely  hurt  her,  though  it  would  shake  her,  but  in  going 
about  she  would  expose  her  bow  or  more  vulnerable  side  to 
the  force  of  the  rising  foot  of  the  great  berg.  For  two- 
thirds  of  an  iceberg  are  under  water,  and  this  buried  portion 
usually  extends  for  yards  on  every  side  of  it,  and  rises  or 
sinks  with  the  motion  of  the  waves. 

The  Fear  Not,  however,  at  last  reached  the  Straits  of  Yugor 
safe  and  sound,  and  cast  anchor  near  a  curious  little  fishing 
village  built  at  the  foot  of  lofty  dark  rocks,  but  well  out  of 
the  reach  of  the  rising  tide. 

How  pleased  Olaf  and  Colin  were  to  get  on  shore  once 
more;  just  to  feel  their  feet  upon  terra  firma\  to  see  green 
moss  around  them,  waving  shrubs  and  wild  flowers.  All 
sailors  are  glad  to  get  on  shore  when  they  have  the  chance. 

Yes,  Lakoff  was  there  waiting  for  them.  He  had  been 
waiting  for  them  for  many  weeks,  living  on  fish  and  the 
eggs  of  wild-fowl,  so  he  told  Reynolds,  with  a  few  of  such 
roots  as  he  could  manage  to  excavate.  These  he  ate  raw. 
And,  indeed,  Lakoff  looked  starved.  He  was  tall  and  dark, 
with  high  cheek-bones  and  lantern  jaws,  and  with  deep-set, 
sad  eyes  that  seemed  to  look  one  through  and  through.  He 
was  dressed  in  furs  from  top  to  toe. 

And  there  he  stood,  with  a  beautiful  wise-looking,  prick- 
eared  dog  at  each  side  of  him. 

"  And  you  have  brought  but  two,  Lakoff?  When  I  saw 
you  at  Edinburgh  you  promised  me  twenty." 


AT  THE   MERCY   OF   GOD.  261 

"Twenty  I  have.  0  yess,  yess.  Back  in  the  woods. 
Listen.  Yess,  yess." 

Eeynolds  and  our  younger  heroes  did  listen,  and  the 
noise  they  heard  was  as  if  a  caravan  of  wild  beasts  was  en- 
camped near  at  hand. 

"Great  Augustus  Caesar!"  cried  Reynolds,  "I  hope  they 
won't  make  that  row  on  board  ship.  If  so,  I  declare  they 
shall  walk  the  plank." 

Lakoff  disappeared,  and  soon  he  and  two  young  fellows, 
his  brothers,  came  out  of  the  bush — which  Lakoff  called 
"the  wood",  with  all  the  twenty  dogs  walking  behind  in  a 
very  orderly  way  indeed. 

Reynolds  chose  fifteen  of  the  strongest,  wisest-looking, 
and  best,  but  he  paid  Lakoff  for  all. 

The  two  dogs  that  had  stood  side  by  side  on  the  beach 
with  Lakoff  were  evidently  great  favourites  with  this  honest 
but  strange-looking  fellow.  He  bent  down  now  to  bid  them 
good-bye,  fondle  and  caress  them,  and  to  his  astonishment 
Reynolds  noted  that  the  man  was  crying. 

"Why,  Lakoff,"  said  the  captain,  "I  declare  you  love 
those  dogs!  Is  it  so?" 

"  Yess,  yess,  sir,"  was  the  reply.  "  More  to  me  are  they 
than  life  itself.  P'r'aps  now  Lakoff  die  directly." 

"No,  you  won't,  Lakoff!     Listen!" 

"Yess,  sir,  I  listen.     Yess,  yess." 

"Lakoff,  come  with  us.     Are  you  married?" 

"Yess,  yess.  But  to  me  the  dogs  better  are  than  my 
dame.  My  brothers  feed  my  dame.  I  go;  I  go.  Yess, 
yess,  I  go." 

He  threw  his  arms  around  the  neck  of  the  biggest  dog, 
and  he  wept  again.  But  this  time  it  was  for  perfect  joy. 

Olaf  looked  at  Colin  with  a  meaning  glance,  but  neither 
made  any  remark.  The  exhibition  of  either  sorrow  or  joy 
in  others  should  ever  be  held  sacred  by  those  who  witness 
it,  and  both  our  young  heroes  seemed  to  feel  this. 

And  now,  after  asking  Captain  Reynolds  what  time  they 
must  return,  they  started  on  a  ramble  inland,  accompanied 
by  Keltic.  Caesar  had  not  been  taken  on  shore  that  day,  for 
fear  of  a  riot.  He  was  one  of  the  best-natured  dogs  alive, 


262          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

but  it  was  nevertheless  a  question  whether  he  would  care  to 
have  his  ship  boarded  by  a  squad  like  that  which  Lakoff — 
a  little  whip  in  his  hand — stood  in  the  midst  of. 

Even  Keltic  had  to  be  held  on  leash.  He  appeared  ex- 
ceedingly full  of  fight,  and  would  have  gone  to  his  death 
right  merrily  if  he  could  only  have  got  loose. 

"0,"  he  seemed  to  say,  "you  mongrels  look  very  brave 
now.  Just  wait  till  you  get  on  board  and  see  my  big 
brother  Csesar.  He'll  throw  you  all  overboard,  one  at  a 
time,  but  not  until  he  has  pretty  nearly  shaken  the  life  out 
of  you." 

Colin  was  pleased  when  he  succeeded  in  coaxing  Keltic 
past  the  pack,  for  indeed  the  language  he  used  was  not 
over  choice,  judging  by  the  sound  of  it. 

It  was  doubtless  a  pleasure  to  spend  a  day  on  shore,  but 
as  for  adventures,  I  am  sorry  to  say  our  heroes  had  none. 
They  roamed  in  the  wilds,  however,  for  hours,  in  company 
with  two  of  the  natives,  who  assured  them  that  there  were 
plenty  of  both  bears  and  wolves  around.  Well,  there  might 
have  been,  but  if  so,  they  kept  well  concealed  in  their  dens 
or  caves. 

But  the  views  obtained  from  some  of  the  highest  hills 
amply  rewarded  Colin  and  Olaf  for  their  long  day's  trudge; 
and  when  they  returned  to  the  ship  in  time  for  dinner,  both 
agreed  that  the  time  had  been  well  spent. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  DOGS  ON  BOARD — CROSSING  A  DREADED  BAR. 

WHAT  the  officers  and  crew  could  possibly  have  done 
with  those  dogs,  without  the  assistance  of  Lakoff,  it  is 
impossible  to  say. 

"What  a  happy  thought  or  inspiration  it  was  to  bring 
him!"  said  Reynolds  more  than  once;  "and  the  queer  thing 
is  this,  it  came  all  of  a  sudden.  If  I  hadn't  seen  the  poor 


THE  DOGS   ON   BOARD.  263 

fellow  shedding  tears  on  the  neck  of  his  favourite,  it  never 
would  have  occurred  to  me." 

"  Then  it  would  have  been  farewell  to  sleep,"  said  Colin — 

"  '  Sleep  that  knits  up  the  ravell'd  sleave  of  care, 
The  death  of  each  day's  life,  sore  labour's  bath, 
Balm  of  hurt  minds,  great  nature's  second  course, 
Chief  nourisher  in  life's  feast'." 

Reynolds  laughed. 

"It  is  refreshing,"  he  said,  "to  hear  a  quotation  from 
Shakspeare  in  these  far  northern  wilds.  But,  Colin,  I  hope 
you  know  a  good  deal  more  of  the  poet's  works,  for  you 
will  have  a  call  to  recite,  depend  upon  it,  before  we  reach 
the  pole." 

Colin  continued: — 

"Methought  I  heard  a  voice  say,  'Sleep  no  more'. 
Those  dogs  do  murder  sleep". 

"0,"  cried  Olaf,  "and  you  murder  Shakspeare!  But 
listen!" 

"Listen"  he  well  might  say,  for  at  that  moment  a  noise 
arose  from  the  fore-part  of  the  ship  which  I  cannot  find 
words  to  describe.  It  was  an  awful  chorus  of  barking,  yelp- 
ing, whining,  yelling,  baying,  howling,  of  all,  in  fact,  that  a 
dog  can  do  with  his  vocal  cords  and  lungs. 

Joseph  rushed  on  deck. 

Caesar  sat  on  the  top  of  the  skylight  with  his  great  nose  in 
the  air  sounding  his  fog-horn,  and  Keltic  stood  behind  him 
whiff-whiff-whiffing,  till  his  eyes  seemed  bulging  out  of  his 
head. 

The  row — which  would  have  awakened  Rip  Van  Winkle 
himself — was  happily  easily  explained.  For  here  stood 
Lakoff,  his  hand  on  his  heart,  and  looking  the  very  picture 
of  sadness. 

"0,  Lakoff,  can't  you  stop  that  fearful  din?" 

"  It  is  for  me  they  mourn.  It  is  that  I  am  here  they  do 
weep  their  grief." 

"Well,  great  Augustus!  go  to  them,  Lakoff.  Let  them 
weep  their  grief  in  your  ear,  but  not  so  loud.  Bother  it  all, 


264          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

Lakoff,  they'll  drive  us  all  mad!  Silence,  Caesar!  Down 
below,  Keltic !  Why,  the  good  ship  Fear  Not  will  speedily 
be  turned  into  a  floating  lunatic  asylum." 

"But,  sir- 
Joe  made  a  rush  forward,  and  Lakoff  followed  at  a  swing- 
ing trot.  As  soon  as  he  reached  the  place  where  the  dogs 
were,  there  was  silence  deep  as  death. 

The  poor  animals  crowded  around  Lakoff  and  fondly 
licked  his  hand. 

"Now  I  can  listen  to  you,  Lakoff,"  said  Joe. 

Lakoff  in  his  rather  pretty  broken  English  then  explained 
that  the  dogs  must  have  a  kind  of  house  on  deck,  that  con- 
stant chaining  would  destroy  their  tempers.  Also,  that  he 
desired  Svolto,  who  appeared  to  be  fond  of  the  dogs  and  the 
dogs  of  him,  to  keep  watch  and  watch  with  him. 

"  So  shall  it  be,  sir,"  said  Lakoff,  "  that  the  gentlemans 
of  this  ship  shall  close  their  eyes  in  peace." 

"Thank  heaven,"  cried  Joe,  "for  that  assurance!  You 
shall  have  all  your  desires,  Lakoff,  and  I'll  see  about  the 
building  of  the  kennel  at  once." 

Joe  went  aft  to  report,  and  right  glad  was  everybody  in 
the  saloon  to  know  that  there  was  a  solution  of  the  dog 
difficulty. 

'Twixt  the  fore  and  the  main -masts  boats  had  been 
placed.  Now  these  were  put  elsewhere,  and  riot  one  kennel, 
but  two  were  built,  with  a  strong  partition  running  fore  and 
aft  between  them,  so  that  when  Lord  Daybreak  came  on 
board  with  his  team,  the  two  packs  would  be  divided,  and 
thus  much  needless  fighting  and  quarrelling  prevented. 

The  very  next  day  the  dogs  were  turned  into  their  new 
quarters,  and  delighted  they  appeared  to  be  to  get  under 
shelter,  for  during  the  last  few  days  a  sleet-laden  head  wind 
had  been  blowing,  and  as  the  Fear  Not  had  frequently  to  put 
about  from  tack  to  tack,  heavy  and  warm  though  their 
jackets  were,  the  unfortunate  dogs  were  drenched  to  the 
skin  with  the  driving  spray. 

These  sledge-dogs,  it  is  very  true,  are  exceedingly  hardy, 
and  will  sleep  at  night  on  the  snow,  or  even  under  the  snow; 
but  there  is  one  thing  on  shore  which  they  can  always  get, 


THE   DOGS  ON   BOARD.  265 

and  which  conduces  to  the  health  of  dogs  as  well  as  men, 
namely,  exercise.  To  a  great  extent  they  were  deprived  of 
this  on  board  ship.  Besides,  dogs  of  this  breed,  or  indeed 
of  any  breed,  can  stand  frost  or  snow  with  far  less  danger 
than  wet  or  damp. 

Svolto  was  delighted  to  be  told  off  for  a  new  post,  looking 
upon  his  situation  of  under-keeper  as  a  step  in  the  rank  of 
promotion.  When  spoken  to  for  the  first  time  on  the  sub- 
ject, his  face  was  quite  a  study  in  the  bland.  It  beamed  all 
over  and  his  eyes  sparkled,  while  he  lifted  foot  after  foot 
like  a  soldier  marking  time.  "Oh — h — h!"  he  said.  But 
never  another  word,  only  I  am  sure  that  Svolto  wouldn't 
have  been  more  pleased  had  Joe  asked  him  to  take  charge 
of  the  ship  herself. 

There  was  peace  now,  and  let  me  say  at  once  that  there 
was  peace  for  evermore  on  board  the  ship — that  is,  from 
kennel  noises;  for  when  Lakoff  himself  was  not  there  Svolto 
was,  and  as  soon  as  there  was  the  slightest  signs  of  disturb- 
ance, a  word  or  two  or  the  cracking  of  the  little  whip  was 
enough  to  restore  matters  to  the  statu  quo. 

There  was  a  king-dog  in  the  kennel.  This,  I  need  hardly 
say,  was  one  of  the  noble  fellows  over  whose  neck  Lakoff 
had  shed  tears,  when  he  thought  he  was  parting  with  him 
for  ever  and  aye.  He  really  was  a  splendid,  handsome  fel- 
low, and  a  dog  of  the  greatest  intelligence.  But  he  brooked 
no  rivalry  either  in  surly  looks  or  growling.  If  any  other  dog 
in  the  pack  dared  but  curl  his  upper  lip,  Chauss  punished 
him  at  once,  though  by  no  means  unmercifully. 

Well,  Chauss  was  undoubtedly  king-dog  in  his  pack,  but 
was  he  king-dog  in  the  ship  1  Let  us  see. 

One  day  shortly  after  the  kennels  had  been  built,  Lakoff 
appeared  once  more  before  Joe  on  the  quarter-deck,  his  hand 
upon  his  heart,  the  sad,  sad  look  in  his  dark,  unfathomable 
eyes. 

"What,  more  sorrow,  Lakoff]"  said  Joe.  "What  is  it 
now?" 

Joe  was  smiling  his  pleasantest,  and  this  encouraged  Lakoff 
to  proceed. 

"It  is,"  he  said  mournfully,  "that  last  night  when  the 


266         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

sun  was  creep  down  near  the  sea,  Chauss  do  speak  his  grief 
to  me." 

"Well,  what  did  Chauss  tell  you  I" 

"He  speak  me  so:  'Look,'  he  say,  'my  people  plenty 
much  pain  in  limbs  have  got.  Die  my  people  soon  will. 
Hee-ho!'" 

"Well,  and  what  did  you  answer?" 

"I  speak  Chauss  in  his  right  ear,  and  I  say  him  so: 
1  Chauss,  your  people  will  never  die.  I  go  myself  to  Captain 
Joe,  and  I  speak  him  to  let  your  people  run  free  as  wild 
wolves  for  one  hour  at  noon.  So,  Captain  Joe,  to  you  I 
come." 

"Right,  Lakoff!  Right,  my  good  fellow!  Speak  Chauss 
again,  and  say  him  so :  '  Good  old  Joe  has  listened  to  your 
plaint,  and  every  day  you  and  your  people  shall  get  out  for 
a  run.'" 

From  eleven  a.m.  until  half-past,  therefore,  and  again 
from  six  p.m.  until  seven  o'clock,  came  to  be  known  on 
board  as  the  dogs'  dancing  hours. 

And  dance  they  did. 

0,  the  wildness  of  that  caper  around  the  deck !  But  there 
is  no  doubt  that  even  the  sight  of  these  dogs  at  play  did  our 
heroes  good.  There  is  nothing  like  fun  for  keeping  one  in  good 
health.  And  here  there  was  fun  indeed,  fun  indescribable ! 
Two  dozen  schoolboys  at  leap-frog  would  not  be  a  circum- 
stance to  it,  as  a  Yankee  would  say.  Five  score  of  black 
boys  dancing  on  Zanzibar  sands — and  I  have  seen  that — 
would  have  seemed  but  a  spiritless  sight  after  witnessing 
this  daft,  droll,  canine  game  at  romps. 

Now,  it  had  been  thought  best  to  shut  up  Caesar  and 
Keltic  in  a  cabin  during  the  time  for  exercising  the  sledge  dogs. 

Caesar  and  Keltic  took  a  different  view  of  the  matter, 
apparently,  and  one  evening,  the  state-room  door  having 
been  left  unfastened,  says  Caesar  to  Keltic : 

"  Keltic,  I'd  like  to  go  on  deck  to  see  that  mongrel  pack 
you  have  so  graphically  described  to  me." 

"  Wiff — wiff — wiff ! "  says  Keltic.  "  I'll  soon  scrape  open 
the  door  for  you." 

And  he  did. 


988 


LAKOFF    HAS   A    TALK   WITH    HIS    FRIEND   CHAUSS. 


THE  DOGS   ON   BOARD.  267 

"Now,"  said  Csesar,  "come  along,  Keltie,  and  if  there  is  a 
dog  in  the  whole  pack  that  refuses  to  lower  his  tail  to  me, 
overboard  he  goes  before  he  can  bark." 

I  do  not  think  I  am  wrong  in  saying  that  when  Caesar 
suddenly  appeared  in  the  centre  of  that  pack  of  sledge  dogs, 
everyone  who  saw  it  dreaded  instant  bloodshed,  riot,  and 
death. 

No  one  spoke,  however.  Lakoff  held  up  his  hand,  as  if 
advising  silence,  and  no  interference.  And  there  stood 
Caesar,  with  Keltie  beneath  him,  but  eager  for  the  fray. 
The  sledge  dogs  for  a  moment  or  two  appeared  paralyzed 
with  terror. 

"0,  you  great,  wonderful  being,"  some  seemed  to  say, 
"where  did  you  come  from?  Are  you  a  wolf,  or  are  you  a 
bear1?"  Every  tail  was  lowered.  Some  whined  and  cried, 
some  stole  quietly  back  to  kennel,  while  one  or  two  crept 
towards  the  noble  Newfoundland,  abject,  and  on  their 
stomachs,  as  if  begging  for  mercy. 

Ceesar  took  no  notice  of  any  of  these,  but  advanced 
haughtily,  and  with  head  in  air,  to  the  spot  where  the  king- 
dog  himself  stood,  apart  from  his  subjects. 

Caesar  uttered  no  growl.  He  simply  looked  down  at  the 
king,  without,  however,  lowering  his  head.  And  if  ever  a 
dog  spoke,  here  is  what  Caesar  said : 

"You're  king  of  the  pack,  aren't  you?  Well,  I'm  king 
of  the  castle.  "Look  at  me.  Eather  more  here  than  you 
could  eat  if  you  tried,  isn't  there  ?  But,  big  as  I  am,  I'm  not 
a  bad  fellow,  and  I  like  fun  better  than  fighting  any  day. 
Now,  which  shall  it  be  1 " 

The  king  wagged  his  tail. 

Csesar  and  Keltie  wagged  theirs. 

And  before  anyone  on  board  that  ship  could  have  said 
"  marling-spike  ",  round  and  round  the  decks  big  Caesar  and 
Keltie  were  flying,  pursued  by  the  whole  yelping,  daft,  droll, 
pack.  Anon  Caasar  would  roll  over,  and  the  pack  pretended 
to  devour  him;  not  an  angry  growl  was  heard,  it  was  all 
fun,  fun,  fun,  and  the  crew  of  the  Fear  Not  now  laughed 
louder  than  ever,  and  I  suppose  grew  fatter,  if  there  be  any 
truth  in  the  old  saying,  "  Laugh  and  grow  fat". 


268         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

After  this  pleasant  episode  there  was  no  more  occasion  to 
keep  Caesar  and  Keltic  confined  during  the  dogs'  hour.  In- 
deed, those  sledge  dogs  had  taken  a  very  great  fancy  to  the 
pair  of  them.  Sometimes  Olaf  and  Colin  kept  Caesar  and 
Keltic  back  for  a  little  while  after  King  Chauss  and  his  people 
were  let  free.  Then  would  they  wander  aimlessly  round 
the  decks  looking  for  their  absent  friends,  and  seeing  them 
not,  the  king  himself  would  sit  on  his  haunches  and  howl  in 
the  most  melancholy  and  lugubrious  style.  Of  course,  all 
the  others  joined,  each  on  a  keynote  chosen  indiscriminately, 
so  that  the  music  was  as  deafening  as  that  of  seven  Highland 
pipers  on  a  fair  day  all  playing  different  tunes. 

"  Now  is  the  winter  of  our  discontent 
Made  glorious  summer  by  this  sun  of  York." 

Thus  Colin  as  he  let  Caesar  loose. 

Then,  indeed,  as  the  great  Newfoundland  came  capering 
into  the  centre  of  the  pack,  leaping  over  the  heads  of  three 
or  four  of  them  perhaps,  was  melancholy  changed  to  mirth, 
just  as  when  after  the  transformation  scene  at  a  pantomime 
the  clown  appears  with  his  "Here  we  are  again"  and 
"Now  the  fun  begins". 

But  the  clown's  fun  is  oftentimes  a  very  spurious  kind 
indeed,  but  that  of  these  honest  dogs  was  heartfelt  and  very 
real. 

Am  I  telling  you  too  much  about  these  dogs,  reader?  I 
cannot  help  it,  for,  like  all  boys — and  I  am  still  a  boy  at 
heart — I  love  dogs.  Besides,  our  story  will  take  a  leap  soon 
to  stranger,  wilder,  mayhap  sadder  scenes,  so  let  us  enjoy 
our  dogs  while  we  may. 

One  thing  I  must  tell  you.  From  the  very  day  these 
animals  came  on  board  they  began  to  get  better  in  condition, 
stronger,  fatter,  happier,  and  brighter  in  the  eye.  For  at 
first  some  of  them  were  so  worn  and  thin,  it  looked  as 
though  their  skins  alone  were  preventing  their  bones  from 
falling  asunder. 

The  Fear  Not  had  now  passed  across  the  sea  of  Kara  and 


CROSSING  A  DREADED  BAR.  269 

was  heading  away  for  the  cape  called  Chalyuskin,  or  quite  as 
properly  perhaps,  Severo. 

This  cape  is  the  most  northerly  land  on  the  continent  of 
Asia,  and,  as  a  glance  at  the  map  will  show  you,  is  Russian 
territory.  Farther  south,  and  far  beyond  the  cape,  was  Lena 
Delta,  near  to  which  Reynolds  expected  to  meet  Lord  Day- 
break, who,  as  we  know,  had  been  travelling  for  many,  many 
months,  with  a  view,  he  told  our  heroes  before  he  started, 
of  writing  a  book,  if  ever  he  was  fortunate  enough  to  get 
back  home  again. 

Well,  hitherto  Reynolds  in  his  brave  ship  had  been  won- 
drously  lucky.  He  was  certainly  struggling  hard  at  present. 
It  was,  indeed,  a  battle  'twixt  the  Fear  Not  and  the  ice,  but, 
compared  to  most  seasons,  the  seas  were  marvellously  open 
and  free. 

Moreover,  the  wind  was  fair,  and  it  blew  a  sturdy  breeze. 
Every  inch  of  sail  was  set,  and  sometimes  she  needed  all 
this  press  of  canvas  to  get  her  through  the  streams.  The 
only  cause  of  regret  that  Reynolds  had  rested  on  the  fact 
that  he  had  somehow  managed  to  miss  the  vessel  at  Waiget 
that  was  bringing  him  an  extra  forty  or  fifty  tons  of  coals. 
It  is  true  he  might  have  waited  at  the  place  of  rendezvous 
for  her,  but  he  considered  it  of  not  so  much  moment.  He 
would  save  the  coals  he  had  with  the  help  of  the  wind. 

After  doubling  the  cape  the  course  steered  was  south-east 
by  east,  until  they  reached  the  Delta. 

This  they  did  safely  at  last,  but  not  without  further  ad- 
venture, for  they  encountered  a  terrible  gale  among  the  ice 
off  the  Anabara  river.  The  ice  here  was  all  loose,  owing, 
no  doubt,  to  the  large  amount  of  fresh  water  poured  into  it 
by  the  Anabara  and  other  great  streams. 

But  the  danger  to  be  feared  during  this  storm  was  more 
on  account  of  the  ice  than  the  cold  high  wind  and  the  raging 
sea. 

It  might  well  have  been  said  once  again,  that  they  were 
at  the  mercy  of  God.  But  for  His  guiding  hand  all  their 
efforts  could  hardly  have  sufficed  to  save  the  ship. 

The  cannonade,  when  the  gale  was  at  its  height,  was 
terrific,  fearful.  I  call  the  battering  that  the  Fear  Not 


270          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

received  in  her  bows  and  sides  a  "cannonade";  the  pieces 
of  green  ice  seemed  to  be  hurled  at  the  beam-ends  of  the 
unfortunate  ship  as  if  by  the  hands  of  gigantic  Tritons — the 
mythical  sea-gods  of  ancient  times.  Probably  no  ship  that 
ever  ventured  among  the  ice  during  a  gale  of  wind  could 
have  stood  this  terrible  bombardment,  but  the  Fear  Not 
was  exceptionally,  marvellously  strong  in  build.  Stays, 
beams,  strengthenings  of  every  kind  that  could  be  devised, 
had  been  arranged  while  she  was  being  built,  so  that  she 
was  stronger  far  than  if  she  had  been  a  solid  block  of 
wood. 

For  three  days  the  storm  raged  with  unabated  violence, 
and  then,  at  last,  Reynolds  found  himself  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Olenek  river. 

Dare  he  venture  in?  He  must  try  to,  else  probably  he 
might  get  swept  by  the  gale  farther  east  and  dashed  upon 
a  lee  shore. 

The  river  seemed  to  enter  the  Arctic  Ocean  slantingly, 
and  to  flow  from  south-west  to  south-east.  But  the  appear- 
ance of  the  bar  to-day,  with  its  thundering  and  foaming 
waves,  that  raised  their  crests  so  high  in  the  snow-laden  air, 
would  have  appalled  a  less  dauntless  heart. 

But  Reynolds  was  determined.  He  himself  and  Sigurd 
took  the  wheel;  Joseph  stationed  himself  on  the  bridge,  to 
advise,  to  order,  and  command. 

On  they  dash !  Now,  indeed,  it  is  death  or  life.  There 
is  a  break  yonder  in  the  awful  line  of  breakers,  and  Joseph 
guides  the  vessel  straight  for  that. 

All  sail  is  still  set.  Not  one  is  clewed.  They  may  need 
all  their  strength  to  send  them  across  if  they  strike  bottom 
or  bump.  If  they  get  fast  entirely — then,  strong  as  they 
are,  the  masts  will  snap  like  reeds;  and,  strong  as  the  ship 
is,  she  will  be  dashed  in  pieces  by  those. 

On  they  sail — nay,  rush.  The  vessel,  caught  on  the  top 
of  a  huge  wave,  speeds  forward  like  an  arrow  from  a  bow. 

They  are  on  the  bar  now.  On  each  side  thunders  the 
breaking  water — a  deafening,  awesome  sound. 

Reynolds  and  Sigurd  keep  their  eyes  on  Joseph.  His 
voice  cannot  be  heard,  but  his  motions  are  just  visible 


CROSSING  A  DREADED   BAR.  271 

through  the  mist  of  snow  and  driving  spray.  He  is  guiding 
them  by  his  arms  alone. 

And  now — yes,  now,  heaven  be  praised! — they  are  safe 
at  last,  and  soon  at  anchor  in  deep  water,  but  under  the 
shelter  of  high  rocks  and  cliffs. 

And  this  was  the  rendezvous.  Here  was  a  village  of  huts, 
and  as  soon  as  a  boat  could  be  called  away,  Reynolds  him- 
self landed,  with  Sigurd  and  Lakoff,  to  make  inquiries. 

But  those  humble  fisher  folks — and  ah,  how  wretched 
and  lonesome  they  looked! — had  heard  nothing  of  any 
English  stranger,  and  nothing  of  any  man  with  dogs.  This 
they  told  Lakoff  in  broken  Russian,  and  this  he  interpreted 
to  Reynolds  in  rather  less  broken  English. 

Reynolds  was  indeed  disappointed.  Lord  Daybreak  was 
his  especial  friend,  and  he  was,  moreover,  a  good  sportsman. 
The  dogs  he  chose  would  be  better  and  stronger  far  than 
those  brought  by  Lakoff. 

Well,  anyhow,  he  would  wait.  He  would  wait  a  week, 
or  even  a  fortnight.  Longer  he  feared  to  remain,  for  the 
summer  was  already  drawing  towards  a  close;  the  voyage 
still  before  them  was  a  long  one,  and  he  must  push  north 
and  east  beyond  the  New  Siberian  Islands  before  the  frosts 
of  later  autumn  should  seal  up  the  sea  against  him,  and, 
mayhap,  damage  his  prospects  of  success. 

The  country  all  round  here  was  barren  and  dismal  in  the 
extreme,  and  Colin  and  Olaf,  who  had,  as  usual,  accom- 
panied Reynolds  on  shore,  were  not  sorry  when  they 
returned  on  board  to  the  comforts  of  their  cosy  saloon. 

But  next  morning  it  was  clear  and  bright,  and  the  wind 
had  gone  down.  Well,  the  country,  rough  though  it  was, 
looked  inviting  in  its  mantle  of  purest  snow. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  it  suggests,  Captain  Reynolds,"  said  Olaf. 

"Well?" 

"  A  jolly  sledge-ride." 

"Capital  idea!  and  Lakoff  shall  drive." 

The  idea  was  certainly  a  good  one,  and  there  was  no  one 
it  pleased  better  than  Lakoff  himself.  The  man,  quiet  and 
unfathomable  as  he  seemed,  evidently  had  an  ambition,  and 
this  was  to  show  off  the  working  qualities  of  his  team. 


272         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

What  a  useful  fellow  he  turned  out  to  be  too,  and  what  a 
number  of  excellent  hints  he  was  capable  of  giving  our 
heroes,  one  and  all!  Olaf  and  Colin  watched  with  the 
greatest  of  interest  his  method  of  harnessing  and  of  manag- 
ing his  favourites. 

When  all  was  ready,  a  native  undertook  to  guide  this 
flying  party  across  country,  and  to  show  them  the  best 
route  and  best  road. 

He  did  so  by  taking  them  away  to  a  far-off  plain  or 
upland,  where  the  danger  of  capsizing,  or  of  being  buried  in 
a  snow-drift,  was  reduced  to  a  minimum. 

The  weather  being  bright  and  clear,  expeditions  inland 
were  undertaken  day  after  day  with  the  sledge;  and  not 
only  with  the  sledge,  but  on  "  ski "  as  well. 

This  our  younger  heroes  considered  quite  the  grandest 
sport  ever  invented,  because,  instead  of  doing  all  the  work 
yourself,  you  have  merely  to  steer  and  the  dog  that  you 
hold  in  a  long  leash  pulls  you  along. 

"  Why,"  said  Colin  to  the  captain  one  day,  as  they  were 
returning  just  a  little  tired — pleasantly  tired,  that  is,  or,  as 
Reynolds  called  it,  "cup-of-tea  tired" — "I  think,  sir,  we 
had  better  winter  here.  Sigurd  said  that  to-day  he  saw 
tracks  of  wolves,  and  that  they  would  be  sure  to  come  down 
in  flocks  when  the  nights  were  once  more  dark." 

"Yes,"  said  Sigurd,  who  was  listening,  "if  we  were 
frozen  in  here  in  that  river,  the  wolves  might  come  in  such 
numbers  as  would  make  it  very  unpleasant  for  us  indeed. 
They  sometimes  take  possession  of  the  village,  so  the 
natives  told  Lakoff,  and  not  content  with  eating  the  offal  of 
fish  they  find  on  the  shore,  devour  domestic  animals,  and  at 
times  even  tear  children  to  pieces  before  their  parents'  eyes." 

"An  awful  sight!"  said  Reynolds.  "But  who  comes 
yonder  1  Surely  that  is  no  native  who  has  just  rounded  the 
corner  of  the  rock  yonder1?" 

Olaf's  lorgnettes  were  speedily  in  position. 

The  figure  in  question  was  tall  and  dark  against  the  snow. 
He  was  dressed  in  boots  of  skin,  in  jersey,  and  hood.  In 
his  right  hand  he  held  a  pole,  and  he  was  leading  a  dog 
with  his  left. 


"DEAD   NATURE  IN  HER  WINDING  SHEET."          273 

"0,  sir!"cried  Olaf  excitedly,  "it  isLord  Daybreak  himself!" 

"Thank  God!"  said  Reynolds.  "Now  at  long  last,  I 
feel  that  our  expedition  is  really  and  truly  commencing." 

Lord  Daybreak  came  rapidly  on.  Though  older  than 
anyone  else  belonging  to  the  ship,  he  was  just  in  the  prime 
of  his  manhood.  As  he  neared  the  party  a  smile  lit  up  his 
handsome  and  intellectual  face. 

"At  last,  at  last!"  he  cried.  "So  happy  to  meet  you. 
Hope  you  didn't  have  long  to  wait?  Here  I  am,  though." 

"Rejoiced  to  see  you,  and  how  well  you  look.  Why, 
Lord  Daybreak  your  wanderings  have  not  taken  an  ounce 
of  flesh  off  you.  You  are  rosy,  and,  let  me  tell  you,  that  you 
are  positively  inclined  to  embonpoint." 

"  Getting  fat?  0,  we  will  all  get  fat  at  the  pole.  Every 
creature  gets  fat  in  winter  in  the  Arctic.  Our  friends  won't 
know  us  when  we  go  rolling  home,  and  when  we  land  on 
the  quay  at  Aberdeen  we  will  look  such  a  procession  of 
podgies  that  the  good  folks  of  the  Granite  City  will  split 
their  sides  laughing  at  us.  But,  come,  I'm  hungry. 

"Yes,  Colin,"  he  added,  "my  adventures  would  fill  a 
book.  And  they  will,  too." 

"Well,"  laughed  Colin,  "it  will  be  only  a  second-hand 
one,  Lord  Daybreak" 

"Second-hand,  Colin!  why,  what  can  you  mean?" 

"It  will  be  second-hand,  you  know,  because  you  will 
have  told  it  all  to  us  before  ever  the  public  claps  eyes  upon  it. 

"  And  now  for  tea,"  said  Reynolds. 

"Ah!  now  for  tea,"  cried  his  lordship;  and  that  was  a 
chorus  that  everybody  joined. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"DEAD   NATURE   IN   HER  WINDING-SHEET." 

fTlHREE  months  have  passed  away  since  we  left  our  friends 
JL  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Olenek  going  on  board  to 
tea,  and  now  it  is  the  dreary  month  of  November  here  at 

(988)  S 


274         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

the  point  marked  on  the  map  with  a  cross  eastward  of  the 
New  Siberian  Islands,  and  the  sun  scarcely  deigns  to  peep 
over  the  horizon  for  any  length  of  time.  He  seems  to  tell 
our  heroes  that  he  is  tired  gazing  upon  that  dreary  expanse 
of  blue-black  water,  of  snow,  and  of  ice,  and  that  he  must 
hie  him  away  to  greener,  lovelier  lands  far,  far  south  the 
Arctic  circle. 

"I  must  soon  bid  you  good-bye,"  says  the  great  red, 
round  sun.  "  Will  you  be  all  alive,  I  wonder,  when  I  see 
you  again,  or  will  you  be  but  corpses  frozen  in  the  ice1? 
Yes,  I  must  go;  but  you  will  still  have  the  moon  occasion- 
ally. You  will  have  also  the  darting  aurora  to  flicker  over 
you  and  light  you  through  the  snow.  Then  there  are  the 
stars,  which  I  am  told  exist,  but  never  yet  have  seen.  And 
on  nights  of  storm  and  tempest,  why,  down  below  in  your 
cabin,  you  shall  have  the  electric  light — mankind's  invention 
stolen  from  me." 

A  harder  struggle  than  our  heroes  in  their  ship  Fear  Not 
had  with  the  ice  during  the  long  months  now  gone,  probably 
no  one  on  this  earth  will  ever  have  to  face. 

At  times  it  was  terrible.  Acting  on  the  advice  of  both 
Sigurd  and  Lord  Daybreak,  Reynolds  had  hugged  the 
northern  shores  of  Yakontsk  in  Asia  as  long  as  possible. 
For  here  the  water  was  more  free  of  ice  owing  to  the  great 
influx  of  mighty  rivers,  such  as  the  Lena,  the  Yana,  and 
Indigirka. 

But  when  north  of  Cape  Bear  and  the  Bear  Islands  the 
ship's  jibboorn  was  pointed  almost  directly  towards  the  pole, 
and  the  fight  began  in  earnest. 

Luckily  the  wind  was  once  more  fair,  but  soon  the  ser- 
vices of  the  Scotch  and  Welsh  engineers,  who  had  been 
doing  duty  hitherto  in  any  and  every  capacity,  except  that 
of  loblolly  boys,  had  to  be  requisitioned. 

But  gale  after  gale  had  been  encountered  while  the  Fear 
Not  was  still  among  the  comparatively  loose  ice.  These 
storms  were  dreaded  by  day,  but  when  the  nights  closed  in, 
dark  and  dismal — ah !  reader,  think  of  the  position  of  these 
mariners  then. 

You  cannot  conceive  it;  hardly  would  you  credit  the 


275 

awfulness  of  the  scene  around  them  at  such  times,  and  the 
terrible  realness  of  the  danger  ahead,  astern,  and  on  every 
side. 

In  an  earlier  chapter  of  this  book,  I  have  endeavoured  to 
bring  before  your  mind's  eye  the  picture  of  a  lonely  ship 
in  the  midst  of  a  more  southern  sea  on  a  night  of  darkness 
and  tempest. 

I  should  have  to  multiply  the  horrors  of  that  fearful  night 
many  times  over,  to  give  you  even  a  hazy  notion  of  a  storm 
raging  among  the  heavy  ice  during  the  darkness  of  an  Arctic 
night  like  this. 

I  have  already  tried  to  describe  to  you  the  sounds  made 
by  the  tempest-wind  as  it  goes  roaring  and  shrieking  through 
the  rigging  and  shrouds  in  an  open  sea-way,  and  which  at 
times  may  be  compared  to  the  noise  of  wild  beasts  fighting 
over  their  prey  in  forest  or  jungle.  But  here  among  the  ice 
it  is  not  with  the  ship  alone  that  the  fierce  wind  has  to  con- 
tend. It  rages  and  yells  and  whistles  around  the  bergs  and 
floes,  and  it  lashes  the  waves  into  fury.  If,  as  is  too  often 
the  case,  the  air  on  deck  is  thick  with  driving  snow  and 
semi-frozen  spray,  then  as  you  cling  to  frozen  rope  or  stay 
you  feel  stunned  and  blinded;  you  can  see  nothing  ahead 
or  near  you;  your  only  instinct  is  to  clutch  at  something, 
and  hold  on  for  the  dear  life  that  may  still  be  yours,  hold 
on  lest  the  next  wave  that  dashes  in-board,  looking  green 
and  yellow  in  the  scrimpy  moonlight,  bears  you  off  to 
speedy  destruction.  You  can  see  nothing,  but  you  can  hear 
the  appalling  thunders  of  colliding  bergs.  Ah !  that  indeed ! 

Even  more  terrible  is  it  if  the  night  be  comparatively 
clear,  with  only  gray-brown  storm-clouds  racing  across  the 
disc  of  the  moon,  for  then  you  can  see  the  rising  and  falling 
of  the  huge  masses  of  ice,  whether  green-sided  bergs  or 
snow-clad  floes.  With  the  mountain  waves  they  are  raised 
high  in  air;  with  the  waves  they  form  a  ragged,  jagged 
horizon  of  their  own,  which  is  all  too  close  aboard  of  your 
helpless  ship.  You  can  see  the  foam-crested  heads  of  the 
irresistible  billows  as  they  toss  the  smaller  ice-boulders  into 
the  air  with  a  force  greater  far  than  that  of  a  cataract,  and 
at  times  you  can  see  a  billow  higher  than  any  of  its  fellows 


276          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

rolling  on  with  irresistible  force  till  it  meets  with  floes  that 
collide  and  splinter  before  it  into  dust  and  debris,  forming 
.a  foaming  chaos,  into  which  next  moment  your  ship  may 
dash,  to  be  battered  and  bombarded  with  a  noise  such  as 
one  has  never  heard  before,  and  prays  God  the  Father  he 
ne'er  may  hear  again. 

It  is  on  such  a  night  as  this  that  I  once  more  welcome 
you  on  board  the  Fear  Not. 

The  moon,  you  will  note — although  it  is  nearly  a  full  one 
— is  not  a  very  great  way  above  the  horizon,  and  thus  the 
curling  waves  and  the  rising,  falling  bergs  can  be  more  dis- 
tinctly seen.  But  the  clouds  are  large  and  black,  and  so  the 
darkness  is  at  times  a  darkness  that  lowers  itself  over  ice 
and  seas,  that  broods,  as  it  were,  upon  the  breast  of  the 
ocean,  and  then,  indeed,  only  Heaven  in  its  mercy  can  pro- 
tect our  wanderers. 

But  now  a  strange  thing  happens,  the  Fear  Not  finds  her- 
self in  an  open  sea-way,  and  as  the  moon  shines  for  a  brief 
space  through  a  rift  in  the  clouds  and  there  is  a  slight  lull 
in  the  violence  of  the  wind,  all  on  deck  are  beholders  of  the 
marvel.  And  the  ship  drives  on  and  on  before  the  gale, 
the  wind  howls  as  wildly  as  before  through  her  rigging,  the 
waves  beat  as  fiercely  against  her  timbers,  but,  lo,  the  ice 
has  gone ! l 

Reynolds  is  standing  on  the  weather-side  of  the  quarter- 
deck, near  to  the  man  at  the  wheel,  when  Sigurd  staggers 
up  to  him  and  shouts  in  his  ear: 

"Do  you  think  you  can  lie-to,  sir?" 

"I  will  try,  Sigurd.  Do  you  think  this  open  water 
extends  far1?" 

"  It  may  extend  for  many  miles,  but  beyond  it  you  will 
find  the  ice  closely  packed." 

To  lie-to  in  such  a  gale  is  an  undertaking  of  no  little  risk ; 
but  it  is  safely  accomplished  at  last,  and  now  the  ship  is  in 
a  position  of  greater  safety,  and  here  in  the  open  water  she 
rides  out  the  gale. 

During  all  the  long,  long  hours  of  darkness  and  storm 
the  ship  has  been  battened  down,  and  scarcely  has  anyone 

i  An  experience  of  my  own,  to  the  south'ard  and  west  of  Jan  Mayen  Island. 


"DEAD   NATURE   IN   HER  WINDING-SHEET."  277 

thought  of  either  eating  or  sleeping.  But  now  morning 
begins  to  break  hazily  over  the  sea  and  the  circling  ice.  It 
will  be  but  a  short,  short  day — an  hour  of  twilight,  an  hour 
of  glinting,  red-beamed  sunlight,  an  hour  of  gloaming,  then 
the  dreary  Arctic  night  again. 

But  the  gale  has  gone  down,  and  all  on  board  were  happy 
and  hopeful  once  more. 

The  Fear  Not  was  now  put  before  the  wind,  and  soon 
approached  the  pack.  It  was  less  of  a  close  pack,  however, 
than  Sigurd  had  expected.  Indeed,  it  was  comparatively 
open.  But  the  motion  among  its  component  parts  was  far 
too  great  to  justify  any  attempt  to  bore  through  it.  So  the 
foreyard  was  hauled  aback,  and  for  four-and-twenty  hours 
longer  the  ship  lay  to. 

The  next  day  was  a  little  shorter  than  the  previous  one, 
but  the  ice-motion  had  ceased,  so  boring  was  commenced. 

For  many  miles  the  Fear  Not  sailed  and  steamed  through 
the  pack  with  very  little  difficulty.  After  this  her  way 
would  have  been  stopped  had  not  all  the  hands  that  could 
be  spared  been  sent  overboard  with  poles  to  help  to  clear 
her  way.  All  through  the  darkness,  under  the  light  of 
moon  and  stars,  the  work  was  continued. 

The  next  short  day  was  an  ever-to-be-remembered  one. 
They  had  now  reached  the  highest  latitude  ever  achieved 
by  mariners  on  this  parallel,  and  away  ahead  of  them,  from 
the  crow's-nest,  could  be  seen  ice  far  heavier  than  any  they 
had  yet  encountered.  Reynolds  went  up  himself,  and  Day- 
break followed,  both  agreeing,  when  they  met,  that  this  was 
the  palseocrystic  ice. 

"  Well,"  said  Reynolds  that  night  at  dinner,  "  the  first  part 
of  our  great  work,  men,  has  been  safely  accomplished.  We 
have  bored  into  this  great  pack  or  ice-field  as  far  as  we  have 
power  to.  We  have  clewed  our  sails,  our  fires  are  out 
beneath  the  boilers,  and  we  are  close  alongside  one  of  the 
largest  pieces  of  flat  ice  that  ever  it  has  been  my  lot  to  look 
upon.  Sigurd,  have  you  ever  seen  a  larger?" 

"No,  sir,  nor  one  so  large." 

"And  to-morrow,"  said  Olaf,  "we  will  commence  to  make 
a  harbour." 


278         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"  That's  it,  Olaf.  I  want  to  cut  a  slice  out  of  that  great 
flat  floe  large  enough  to  lay  the  Fear  Not  into.  Then,  I 
think,  we  may  lie  there  in  safety  for  many  months  to 
come." 

Eudland  had  been  unusually  silent  for  some  time.  He 
was  unusually  busy  too  with  his  knife  and  fork,  but  he  now 
opened  his  lips,  and  spoke  as  follows : 

"  Moving  on  towards  our  goal, 
Floating  on  towards  the  pole." 

"0,  come,  come!"  cried  Colin.  "Easy,  easy,  Eudland! 
Poetry  is  not  in  accordance  with  your  musty,  fusty  old 
profession." 

"  Won't  I  dose  you,  lad,  for  that  remark,"  said  Eudland, 
"whenever  I  get  a  chance!" 

"Ah,  yes!  I  daresay,  but,  Eud,  my  boy,  the  chance  has 
yet  to  come.  Yes,  Joseph,  another  slice  of  beef." 

"  There  is  no  sign  of  your  appetite  failing,  anyhow,"  said 
Lord  Daybreak. 

"  No,  I  think  not.  In  the  matter  of  appetite,  indeed,  I 
believe  I  take  after  old  father  Joseph  yonder,  who,  you 
must  have  observed,  sir,  is  always  very  much  at  home  at 
meal  times." 

"Old,  indeed!"  grunted  Joseph.  "Why,  what  airs  you 
very  young  fellows  give  yourselves  about  age !  And  there 
isn't  such  a  deal  of  difference,  either,  Colin,  my  cockie,  for 
when  I  die  of  old  age  it  will  be  time  for  you  to  make  your 
last  will  and  testament." 

The  table  was  cleared  at  last,  for  even  Greenland  men 
cannot  dine  for  ever.  But  there  was  coffee  to  come,  for  in 
the  Fear  Not  this  delicious  beverage  was  used  instead  of 
wine  after  dinner.  Not  one  tiny  little  cup  for  each  person, 
but  an  honest  mugful,  with  more  to  follow,  if  anyone 
thought  it  desirable. 

And  Joe  and  the  doctor  and  the  two  engineers  now  lit 
their  pipes.  Lord  Daybreak  was  content  with  a  cigarette, 
while  Eeynolds  threw  himself  into  his  easy -chair,  took 
the  cat  on  his  knee,  and  began  to  puff  away  at  a  big  cigar. 

Then  the  steward  heaped  more  coals  on  the  fire,  and  it 


"DEAD   NATURE   IN   HER  WINDING-SHEET."  279 

gleamed  and  blazed  so  ruddily  and  brightly  that  the  electric 
light  looked  cold  compared  to  it,  as  indeed  it  was. 

"  Henry,"  said  Eeynolds,  "  bring  them  out." 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir,"  said  Henry. 

"What  is  the  mystery,  sir?"  said  the  Scotch  engineer 
Donaldson,  removing  his  meerschaum  for  a  moment  from 
his  lips. 

"You'll  see  in  a  minute." 

Every  eye  was  turned  towards  dark-haired  Henry  as  he 
came  solemnly  forth  from  the  captain's  state-room  carrying 
something  which  he  now  placed  at  his  master's  feet. 

"  Why,"  cried  Joseph,  who  sat  next  to  Reynolds,  "  why, 
keel-haul  me,  boys,  if  the  skipper  ain't  going  to  bend  a  pair 
of  fur-lined  slippers!" 

Colin  and  Olaf  crowded  forward  to  look,  and  both 
engineers  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Well,"  said  Joe,  "  it's  the  first  time  ever  I  saw  you  go 
in  for  luxury.  It  is  surely  the  sign  of  something." 

"  It  is  the  sign  of  something,  most  certainly,"  said  Rey- 
nolds. "  It  is  a  sign,  my  dear  Joe,  that  we  have  taken  the 
ice;  it  is  a  sign  that  winter  has  come,  and  for  many  months, 
may  be  for  a  year,  may  be  for  two,  there  will  be  no  more 
storms  at  sea,  no  more  topsails  to  reef,  no  more  tack  and 
half-tack  or  lying  to,  and  a  sign,  Joe,  that  I  mean  to  make 
myself  thoroughly  comfortable  and  at  home.  Steward,  I 
shall  have  another  cup  of  coffee." 

"  And,  steward,"  said  Lord  Daybreak,  "  when  you  have 
ministered  to  the  wants  of  our  good  captain,  take  these  keys 
and  open  my  big  drawer.  There,  at  the  bottom,  you  will 
find  a  pair  of  slippers;  bring  them  here.  My  sister  put 
them  there." 

"And,  steward,"  said  Colin,  "when  you  have  quite 
finished  with  his  lordship,  take  my  keys,  and  at  the  bottom 
of  my  drawer  you  will  find  a  pair  of  warm  slippers;  my 
aunt  put  them  there." 

"And  I,"  said  Olaf,  "have  a  mother  who  was  equally 
mindful.  Steward,  kill  two  birds  with  one  stone." 

"  And  I  have  a  sweetheart,"  said  Joe,  "  and  the  girl  didn't 
forget  her  Joseph  either." 


280         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE, 

And  so  it  came  to  pass  that  in  less  than  ten  minutes 
everyone  around  that  stove  had  his  feet  encased  in  a  pair  of 
comfortable  wool -lined  slippers,  with  the  exception  of 
Sigurd,  and  he  had  bent  an  enormous  pair  of  hairy  lampar- 
shoes.1 

Then  it  might  have  been  said  that  all  were  settled,  and 
certainly  everyone  looked  contented  and  happy. 

After  talking  and  smoking  for  nearly  an  hour,  there  was 
a  lull  in  the  conversation,  broken  at  last  by  Reynolds  him- 
self. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  "  I  think  Pussy  Baudrons  here  is  show- 
ing us  a  very  good  example.  She  is  singing.  Can't  you 
boys  give  us  some  music]" 

"I  shall  be  a  boy  for  once,"  said  Daybreak,  rising  and 
seating  himself  at  the  piano. 

''Something  simple,"  said  Reynolds,  "if  you  please,  Lord 
Daybreak." 

"Daybreak  without  the  'Lord',  if  you  please,"  was  the 
reply.  "Come,  we  are  now  a  little  republic;  we  are  all 
equal,  with  one  exception.  You  are  captain,  and  king,  and 
when  it  suits  us  we  will  call  you  'captain'." 

Daybreak  was  really  an  accomplished  musician.  Olaf 
stood  by  his  side  and  turned  over  the  leaves.  Presently 
Donaldson's  violin  was  tuned,  and  chimed  in,  with  its  long- 
drawn  notes,  its  well-managed  shifting,  and  heart-stirring 
tremolo. 

Keltic  nudged  Caesar  with  his  nose. 

"Can't  we  give  them  a  note  too?"  said  Keltic. 

"  We'll  try,"  said  Csesar;  "  it  will  only  seem  friendly." 

Then  high  above  the  notes  of  violin  and  piano  rose  Cesar's 
fog-horn — "  Wo — how — ow — ow — ow !"  and  Keltic's  wicked 
"  Wiff—  wiff—  wa— ow !" 

Together  their  voices  made  a  strange  accompaniment. 
Nor  could  they  be  quietened  for  a  time.  Even  a  threatened 
back-hander  from  Donaldson's  bow  had  no  effect  upon  the 
bow-wows.  But  Henry  himself  solved  the  difficulty  at  last, 
and  bought  them  off  with  a  big  bone  each. 

1  A  kind  of  Norwegian  boot,  very  soft  and  easy  for  the  feet. 


281 

A  very  pleasant  evening  was  spent,  for,  as  in  Burns' 
"Tarn  o'  Shanter", 

"  The  nicht  drave  on  wi'  sangs  and  clatter," 

till  all  retired. 

All  retired,  but  not  to  sleep.  At  all  events,  everybody 
next  day  at  breakfast  told  everybody  else  that  sleep  for  a 
long  time  was  impossible,  owing  to  the  excessive  quiet  and 
stillness  of  all  the  surroundings,  and  the  absence  of  motion 
in  the  ship. 

Breakfast,  you  must  remember,  was  discussed  by  electric 
light,  for  the  day  now  was  scarce  worth  calling  a  day. 

When  all  hands  were  called  after  prayers  to  consider  the 
great  engineering  feat  of  excavating  a  portus  salutis,  or 
harbour  of  safety,  the  stars  were  shining  large  and  clearly, 
and  there  was  just  the  slightest  glimmer  of  roseate  aurora 
away  in  the  north,  while  all  beneath  the  snow-clad  ice  lay, 
white  and  silent — 

"  Dead  nature  in  her  winding-sheet ". 

"Now,"  said  Reynolds,  when  all  were  aft  around  him, 
"now,  men  all,  for  I  address  you  officers  as  well  as  seamen 
and  artificers  as  simply  'men'.  It  is  a  grand  old  word,  and 
I  feel  quite  certain  that  we  are  all  going  to  do  our  very  best 
to  earn  the  title.  Our  very  lives  depend  upon  our  being 
good-tempered  and  unselfish,  each  one  thinking  as  much 
about  his  neighbour  as  about  himself.  If  ever  the  teaching 
of  the  gentle  Jesus  should  bear  fruit,  it  is  in  such  a  com- 
munity as  ours : 

"  '  Love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself  '. 

Men,  I  am  going  to  try  to  make  that  my  motto;  will  you 
join  me?" 

"We  will!  we  will!" 

"Thank  you  for  that  hearty  response,  and  thank  God  for 
it  too.  I  am  going  to  say  no  more.  I  never  was  clever 
with  my  tongue;  and  all  my  life,  though  it  isn't  an  extra- 
ordinary long  one,  I've  noticed  that  the  men  who  talked  the 
most  worked  the  least." 

"Right,  sir." 


282         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"Now,  men,  you  see  that  iceberg,  or  floe-berg.  The 
fellow  isn't  tall,  bar  the  hummock,  which  will  make  a  grand 
look-out  post,  and  from  which  Joseph,  our  mate,  can  catch 
his  lunars.  Well,  we've  got  to  tackle  that  fellow.  We've 
got  to  hack  a  great  hole  in  his  ribs  big  enough  to  hold  the 
Fear-Not,  and  the  sooner  we  begin  the  better. 

"So,  now,  men,  cast  off  your  extra  garments.  Joseph, 
get  up  the  ice-saws  and  axes,  and  we'll  all  bear  a  hand 
right  merrily.  Cheerily  does  it,  boys!  Hurrah!" 

"Hurrah!"  rose  the  echoing  cheer. 

And  off  went  jackets  and  coats. 

There  was  no  wind,  but  even  had 

"...  Biting  Boreas,  fell  and  doure  ", 

been  blowing  his  worst,  the  way  all  hands,  without  a  single 
exception,  went  to  work  would  have  kept  them  warm. 

Those  ice-saws  are  unwieldy  things  to  handle.  Those  on 
board  the  Fear  Not  were  about  sixteen  feet  long,  with  cross- 
handles  at  the  top,  on  to  which  four  men  could  bend  at  a 
time. 

The  making  of  the  portus  salutis  was  a  far  more  difficult 
piece  of  engineering  than  had  been  anticipated,  and  took 
nearly  a  whole  week  to  complete,  for  each  ice-block,  as  it 
was  cut  away,  and  all  the  debris  chipped  off  with  the  axes, 
were  hoisted  right  up  by  means  of  block  and  tackle.  When 
the  work  got  near  to  the  water,  the  difficulty  was  increased, 
and  now  blasting  powder  was  frequently  used.  Care  had 
to  be  taken,  however,  to  prevent  the  kegs  of  powder  from 
being  floated  under  the  ship  herself,  for  the  current  ran 
strong. 

But  the  harbour  was  finished  at  last,  and  the  good  ship 
was  warped  into  it,  broadside  on  to  the  other  floes  around. 
Not  an  inch  of  the  vessel  was  left  endangered.  Indeed,  so 
far  into  the  ice  harbour  was  she  brought  and  secured,  that 
there  would  be  but  little  danger  of  even  the  hull  being 
scraped — as  far  as  could  be  foreseen,  that  is.  A  large  ice- 
berg pressed  alongside  could  do  no  damage;  tiny  ice-blocks 
or  debris  might.  However,  at  present  there  was  none  of 
that  about. 


"DEAD  NATURE  IN  HER  WINDING-SHEET."  283 

The  Fear  Not  was  now  in  winter  quarters,  and  just  as  safe 
as  safe  could  be.  No  one  dared  say  more  than  that. 

Before  the  harbour  was  quite  completed,  our  heroes  had 
bidden  farewell  to  the  sun  for  long,  long  months  to  come. 

On  that  last  day  he  had  just  appeared  over  the  horizon, 
tipping  all  the  hummock  tops  with  his  blood-red  beams. 
Next  day  he  appeared  not  at  all,  but  the  few  clouds  that 
lay  along  the  horizon  in  streaks  and  fleeces  were  a  glorious 
study  in  crimson,  yellow,  and  bronze  for  fully  an  hour, 
while  the  sky,  close  to  the  rugged  snow-line,  was  of  a  deep 
and  splendid  orange  colour,  shading  off  above  into  yellow, 
and  finally  into  emerald  green. 

It  was  the  glow  of  sunrise  and  the  beauty  of  sunset  both 
combined. 

Day  and  night  had  met.  Night  and  day  were  bidding 
each  other  a  long  farewell.  And  the  glory  of  that  painted 
sky  was  but  hung  up  as  a  token  that  day  would  come  again. 

For  three  long  weeks'  silence  unutterable  reigned  all  over 
the  great  and  illimitable  field  of  snow  and  ice.  No;  it  was 
not  all  dark;  they  had  the  companionship  of  the  glittering 
stars  and  planets.  With  every  star  our  heroes  made  them- 
selves acquainted,  they  were  friends  that  never  left  them, 
and  with  every  planet,  too,  shining  visitors  that  dropped  in 
to  spend  a  while  with  them,  but  that  could  not  always  stay. 

Then  there  was  the  moon.  Brightly  enough  she  shone, 
and  for  a  great  portion  of  her  time  she  went  round  and 
round  the  sky,  and  never  set  at  all. 

It  was  a  pleasure,  for  Colin  and  Olaf  at  all  events,  to  know 
that  their  friends  far  away  in  bonnie  Scotland  might  be 
gazing  at  the  moon  night  after  night  and  thinking  of  them. 

Ah,  but  they  must  not  let  their  minds  dwell  too  much  on 
home.  What  an  exceedingly  long  time  it  would  be  before 
they  could  reach  their  native  land  again  ! 

"Hullo,  you  star-gazers!"  cried  Kudland,  surprising  the 
pair  of  them  one  day  as  they  stood  beside  the  binnacle, 
their  faces  both  turned  skywards.  "  Hullo !  what  does  this 
mean1?" 

"It  means,"  said  Colin,  "that  we're  both  doing  a  think." 

"  Yes,  and  it  is  a  think  about  home.     Well,  let  me  catch 


284          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

you  doing  much  more  of  it.  I  am  medical  officer  in  charge 
of  this  ship,  and  two  of  my  most  faithful  servants  are  Messrs. 
Calomel  and  Jalap." 

"What  are  the  boys  getting  lectured  about?"  said  Joe, 
coming  up. 

"  0,"  cried  Olaf  laughing,  "  you  had  better  look  out  too, 
Joe.  If  Dr.  Rudland  Syme  catches  you  thinking  about  that 
girl  of  yours,  as  I  was  just  now  about  my  Katie,  he'll  work 
the  romance  out  of  you  in  no  time  with  a  dose  of  salts  and 
senna  leaves." 

Rudland  made  a  grab  at  Olaf's  ear,  but  Olaf  was  too 
quick  to  be  caught.  But  that  day  at  dinner  the  worthy 
doctor  took  occasion  to  give  his  messmates  his  views  with 
regard  to  the  prevention  and  cure  of  nostalgia. 

"What  ship  did  you  say?"  asked  Joe. 

"Nostalgia  is  the  medical  term  for  home-sickness,  and 
you  needn't  grin,  Joe;  it  is,  or  it  comes  in  time  to  be,  that 
is,  it  develops  into  one  of  the  worst  forms  of  monomania. 
Sometimes  the  disease  is  called  nostomania,  being  derived 
from  the  two  Greek  words." 

"  0,"  cried  Colin,  "  for  mercy's  sake,  Rud,  let  us  dine  in 
peace!" 

"Wowff!"  barked  Caesar. 

And  the  doctor  sighed. 

"  More  anon,"  he  said,  and  continued  his  dinner. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE   GREAT   ICE   PALACE. 


MANY  weeks  had  not  passed  away  ere  our  heroes,  frozen 
up  here  in  this  dismal  pack,  were  treated  to  frequent 
displays  of  that  wondrous  and  mysterious  transformation 
scene,  the  aurora  borealis. 

The  stars  they  had  always  with  them,  the  moon  stayed 


THE  GREAT  ICE   PALACE.  285 

and  cheered  the  lonesomeness  of  life  for  at  least  a  fortnight, 
but  the  aurora  was  just  as  erratic  as  it  was  magically  beau- 
tiful. 

I  have  often  attempted  to  describe  this  strange  but  natural 
phenomena,  but  never  with  satisfaction  to  myself  and  never, 
I  fear,  graphically  enough  to  bring  the  display  before  the 
mind's  eye  of  my  reader  with  any  degree  of  correctness. 

On  the  sea  of  ice  the  whole  sky  becomes  illuminated;  the 
merry  dancers,  as  the  Scotch  seamen  call  them,  are  here, 
there,  and  everywhere,  in  bows,  in  waves,  in  fringes  of  light 
that  dazzle  the  eye,  in  spears,  and  even  in  spear-armed 
armies  that  advance  across  the  sky  till  they  meet  and  clash 
with,  I  verily  believe,  some  slight  noise.  This  sound,  which 
may  or  may  not  be  imaginary,  is  very  low.  Only  on  the 
stillest  of  starry  nights  may  you  hear  it.  It  is  a  kind  of 
"  hush — sh — sh",  as  if  angels  in  heaven  were  whispering  to 
those  on  earth.  If  you  wish  to  hear  something  exactly  like 
this  strange  sound,  rub  your  finger  rapidly  to  and  fro 
across  the  page  of  your  book  and  —  listen. 

Oftentimes  the  aurora  is  coloured  with  roseate  hues,  or 
green  and  blue  alternating  with  red.  Sometimes  the  whole 
sky  is  blood  red.  The  strangest  sight  I  think  I  ever  saw 
was  a  display  of  crimson  aurora  flickering  through  a  shower 
of  falling  snow.  Nothing  I  had  ever  beheld  before  was  so 
strangely,  weirdly  beautiful. 

Just  a  word  or  two  concerning  the  domestic  life  of  our 
heroes  during  this  first  lonely  winter. 

Eecognizing  the  fact  that  if  his  people  were  not  kept 
amused  and  employed,  they  would  mope  and  turn  melan- 
choly— a  melancholy  that  might  even  induce  Dr.  Rudland 
Syme's  mania  nostalgia,  Reynolds  was  never  tired  of  cater- 
ing for  the  benefit  of  the  crew  all  told. 

The  first  month  passed  quickly  enough  away.  And  silence 
all  this  time  reigned  throughout  the  ice-fields.  The  sea  was 
very  far  away  now  indeed — open  blue  water,  I  mean — for 
all  the  country  was  locked  firmly  in  the  icy  grasp  of  winter. 

But  about  the  middle  of  December,  from  the  far-off  tum- 
bling ocean  there  came  a  heavy  swell,  which  was  sufficient 


286         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

to  raise  the  bergs  and  swing  the  floes  with  a  noise  that  it  is 
impossible  to  describe.  In  addition  to  the  usual  shrieking, 
yelling,  and  tearing  sounds  always  heard  during  an  ice- 
crush,  or  when  a  ship  is  in  the  "nips",  there  were  frequent 
reports  louder  than  the  loudest  thunder,  and  these  were 
reverberated  far  and  near  from  the  clouds,  that  at  this  time 
brooded  over  the  ice-fields,  rendering  the  darkness  intense. 

But  in  a  few  hours'  time  the  swell  and  the  noises  passed 
away,  and  the  stars  once  more  shone  out  as  clear  and  bright 
as  before. 

"Well,"  said  Reynolds  that  same  day — (N.B.  It  is  im- 
possible for  a  writer  on  the  Arctic  regions  not  to  use  the 
word  "  day  "  at  times,  and  it  is  intended  to  mean  that  por- 
tion of  the  twenty-four  devoted  to  work,  to  exercise,  and  the 
taking  of  food.  By  night,  on  the  other  hand,  is  meant  the 
hours  of  sleep.) — "  Well,"  Captain  Reynolds  said,  "  I  am  not 
sorry  for  that  ice-crush.  It  was  certainly  a  strong  one,  and 
that  great  floe  alongside  did  try  hard  to  scrape  us  a  bit. 
But  you  see,  boys,  we  are  safe.  And  so  I  feel  happy." 

Breakfast  was  on  the  table  every  morning  at  half-past 
eight.  The  bells  were  still  struck  precisely  as  if  the  ship 
had  been  at  sea;  and  although  watches  were  not  kept  by  all 
hands,  there  was  always  a  sentry  on  duty.  Not  invariably 
a  seaman,  mind  you.  No ;  for,  with  the  exception  of  the 
captain,  and  Lakoff,  and  Svolto — the  latter  two  having  plenty 
of  work  among  the  dogs — every  officer  or  man  took  his  turn 
at  sentry-go. 

Reynolds  would  have  willingly  excused  Lord  Daybreak, 
but  Daybreak  resolutely  refused  to  be  excused. 

"I  am  but  one  in  our  little  republic,"  he  said,  "and  I 
must  take  my  turn  with  the  rest." 

But  long  before  the  steward  had  struck  the  gong  for 
breakfast,  Colin  and  Olaf  had  turned  out — yes,  and  had 
their  cold  bath. 

Marvel  not  at  this,  reader;  even  in  winter  in  the  Arctic 
regions  a  man  may  have  his  tub  and  benefit  thereby  too. 
There  was  plenty  of  salt-water,  for  the  ice-hole  alongside 
was  kept  constantly  open,  and  when  the  temperature  of  the 
air  was  far  far  below  zero,  you  must  remember  that  going 


THE  GREAT  ICE  PALACE.  287 

into  water  is  really  getting  out  of  a  cold  medium  into  a 
comparatively  warmer  one. 

After  dressing,  a  dash  up  and  down  the  decks  with  Caesar 
and  Keltic  put  even  a  keener  edge  on  their  appetites. 

If,  however,  the  weather  was  still  and  starry,  then,  after 
the  bath,  they  got  overboard  for  their  morning  scamper, 
and  had  ten  minutes  of  really  jolly  fun.  This  concluded, 
they  could  eat  a  breakfast  that  caused  Rudland  to  despair 
of  ever  having  the  names  of  Olaf  Ranna  or  Colin  M'lvor  on 
his  sick-list. 

I  am  afraid  some  of  the  older  folks  lit  their  pipes  soon 
after  breakfast ;  but  they  did  not  smoke  for  any  length  of 
time.  Reynolds  would  brook  no  idleness.  The  better 
educated  officers  or  men  belonging  to  the  quarter-deck  took 
observations,  and  wrote  their  log  every  day.  Even  Colin 
and  Olaf  kept  a  log.  The  temperature  of  the  air  and  the 
temperature  of  the  sea  were  entered  at  least  twice  a  day, 
and  also  the  force  of  the  wind,  if  wind  there  was;  the  state 
of  the  sky  as  to  clouds,  moonlight,  or  aurora,  and  anything 
else  that  might  be  of  interest  outside  the  ship.  Everything 
done  inside  the  ship  was  duly  logged  also.  This  log-keeping 
is  irksome  at  first,  but  one  soon  gets  up  to  it,  and  even 
comes  to  like  it. 

The  men  were  always  set  to  work  at  something,  and 
Reynolds  endeavoured  to  make  that  something  as  pleasant 
as  possible. 

The  dogs  had  a  whole  hour's  scamper  every  forenoon 
now,  and  one  hour  and  a  half  in  the  evening.  So  that  the 
second  dog-watch,  from  six  till  eight  p.m.,  was  really  and 
truly  a  dog-watch.  The  whole  of  the  deck  had  been 
canvassed  over.  It  was,  indeed,  one  huge  tent,  and  it  was 
under  this  that,  if  the  weather  was  at  all  windy,  the  dogs 
had  their  exercise. 

Daybreak  had  brought  with  him  only  ten  dogs.  They 
were,  however,  very  large  and  fine,  and  for  a  time  the  king- 
dog  of  this  little  pack  seemed  inclined  to  fight  with  big 
Chauss.  But  Chauss  had  begged  to  be  excused.  He  did 
not  lower  either  head  or  tail,  however,  and  a  deal  of  very 
rough  language  passed  beUyeen  them.  Then  Caesar  himself 


288         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

and  his  little  satellite  Keltic  had  come  upon  the  scene. 
Caesar  walked  round  the  new  king  once  or  twice,  and  there 
was  no  more  word  about  fighting. 

Luncheon  was  partaken  of  in  the  saloon  at  one  o'clock, 
but  forward  the  others  dined  at  half-past  twelve. 

Work  or  amusement,  such  as  games  on  the  ice  and  snow, 
or  on  board,  as  the  case  might  be,  was  the  rule  of  the 
afternoon. 

Tea  was  served  at  five  o'clock,  and  the  saloon  dinner  at 
half-past  six.  Anyone,  therefore,  among  the  quarter-deck 
people  who  thought  his  appetite  was  not  already  good 
enough  could  improve  it  by  a  half-hour's  run  with  the  dogs 
before  sitting  down.  But,  indeed,  no  one  seemed  likely  to 
lose  either  heart  or  appetite  for  the  present  at  all  events. 

Every  evening  was  devoted  to  a  merry  meeting  of  some 
kind,  for  the  men  were  invited  forward  to  listen  to  the 
music  and  singing,  as  well  as  to  the  stories,  and  they  were 
also  treated  to  coffee  and  biscuits. 

Biscuits  with  butter,  mind  you.  Reynolds  had  not  for- 
gotten the  craving  he  and  his  little  band  had  experienced 
while  crossing  the  highlands  of  Greenland,  for  fatty  matter 
of  all  kinds.  And  here  this  craving  was  developed  by 
many  of  the  crew  into  almost  a  passion.  I  am  certain  that 
if  a  seal  or  seals  had  been  caught  they  would  have  eaten 
the  blubber. 

But  the  men  from  forward  were  expected  not  only  to 
listen  to  the  singing  or  yarn-spinning  of  others,  but  to 
contribute  in  some  way  or  other  to  the  evening's  enter- 
tainment. And  so  the  "forenights"  were  passed  away 
most  pleasantly. 

Every  morning  there  were  prayers,  and  every  Sunday  a 
sermon  was  read  in  the  saloon,  psalms  and  hymns  sung,  and 
prayers  read  or  said. 

I  think,  though,  that  the  idea  which  Colin  broached  one 
day  in  January  was  a  very  good  one. 

"Why  not  build  an  igloo?"  he  said. 

"  Yes, — good ! "  cried  Joe.     "  A  snow-house ! " 

"  An  ice-palace,  Canadian  fashion,"  said  Daybreak. 

"Hurrah!"  cried  Olaf,  "the  very  thing.    What  say  you,  sir?" 


THE  GREAT  ICE  PALACE.  289 

"O,  by  all  means,  Colin;  you  can  mention  the  matter 
to-day  to  the  rest." 

"Beware  of  frost-bite,  mind  you,  while  at  work,"  said 
Eudland.  "I  don't  want  to  treat  frost-bite;  it  is  only  a 
kind  of  exaggerated  chilblain  at  best,  and  any  old  wife 
could  see  to  it.  Give  me  a  case  of  pleurisy  or  pneumonia; 
science  has  got  to  come  to  the  front  in  that." 

So  the  building  of  the  ice-palace  was  proceeded  with 
forthwith.  The  weather  happened  to  be  still,  and  there 
was  a  lovely  flood  of  moonlight.  The  palace  was  erected 
on  the  largest  adjoining  floe,  the  blocks — or  say  bricks, 
if  you  choose — from  which  it  was  constructed  being  procured 
from  the  hummocks  and  even  from  the  bergs  themselves. 

A  considerable  deal  of  work  had  to  be  expended  in  the 
fashioning  of  those  bricks,  in  order  that  they  should  lie  fair 
and  square  and  plumb,  the  one  above  the  other,  or  rather 
each  brick  overlapping  the  ends  of  two,  just  as  you  can  see 
in  any  wall.  The  mason's  motto,  as  you  may  be  aware,  is — 

"  Don't  put  a  stone  above  a  stone, 
But  put  a  stone  above  two  ". 

Before  a  block  was  raised  into  position,  a  little  water 
was  thrown  over  the  place  where  it  should  lie,  and  this 
speedily  becoming  frozen,  acted  as  a  natural  and  very  strong 
cement. 

Of  course,  it  was  the  roofing  of  the  palace  that  required 
the  greatest  skill;  this  was  arched,  and  a  wooden  support 
was  needed  under  each  row  till  the  two  rows,  the  right  and 
the  left,  met  in  the  centre,  and  the  keystone  ice-brick  was 
put  in;  then  the  wooden  support  was  at  once  pulled  from 
under,  and  that  part  of  the  roof  was  firm  and  secure.  In 
this  way  the  whole  of  the  roof  was  built. 

But  it  was  on  the  frontage,  and  the  archway  over  the 
door,  and  on  two  square  flanking  towers  that  the  principal 
decorative  skill  and  art  were  expended;  and,  when  finished, 
these  really  looked  very  beautiful,  and  glittered  in  the  star- 
light as  if  they  had  been  constructed  from  the  very  purest 
of  crystal. 

The  construction  of  the  whole  place  did  not  occupy  more 

(9S8)  T 


290         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

than  three  weeks,  although  the  builders  only  worked  a  few 
hours  daily. 

The  temperature  of  the  great  ice-field  had  meanwhile 
fallen  lower  and  lower  till  40°  below  zero  was  reached. 
But  when  there  was  no  wind  the  cold  was  not  complained 
of  very  much,  except  at  night,  after  one  got  into  bed ;  then 
there  is  no  word  in  the  English  language  to  express  the 
misery  the  cold  caused  until  one  gradually  got  warm. 
Everybody  slept  with  the  bed-clothes  completely  over  his 
head.  Warmth  was  thus  more  easily  obtained  and  also 
maintained. 

Sometimes  a  snow-storm,  or  a  storm  of  wind  alone,  went 
raging  and  howling  across  the  icy  wilderness,  and  the  men 
were  then  confined  to  the  ship,  and,  indeed,  spent  much  of 
their  time  below;  for  a  draught  blowing  in  through  the 
canvas  tent  on  deck  seemed  to  cut  one  through  and  through 
like  a  knife  or  a  sword. 

It  was  during  such  wind-storms  or  tempests,  that  it 
needed  all  the  courage  and  mental  strength  of  those  un- 
doubtedly brave  men  to  enable  them  to  keep  up  their 
spirits.  0,  the  melancholy  wailing  of  that  fierce,  wild  wind ! 
It  seemed  to  be  speaking  to  them,  telling  them  mournful 
tales,  or  singing  to  them  songs  of  sorrow,  of  hopelessness, 
and  death. 

And  yet,  let  it  be  here  recorded  as  a  proof,  perhaps,  of 
the  power  of  the  material  over  the  distinctively  spiritual, 
that  no  sooner  did  the  wind  die  away,  the  clouds  drift 
from  athwart  the  sky,  and  the  moon,  or  moon  and  stars 
once  more  shine  forth,  than  the  minds  of  all  on  board 
sprang  back,  as  it  were,  to  their  old  happy  level,  and  singing 
and  laughing  were  heard  again  all  over  the  ship.  The  very 
dogs,  that  before  had  lain  still  and  quiet — Caesar  oft-times 
sighing,  as  great  dogs  do,  you  know — now  felt  the  exhilara- 
tion, and  went  daft  with  joy  at  the  sight  of  the  stars. 

After  a  wild  snow  blizzard  there  was  always  work  for  the 
men  for  several  days,  for  the  tent  had  never  wholly  escaped 
damage  from  the  icy  fingers  of  the  blast,  and  the  wonder 
often  was  that  it  was  not  rent  into  frozen  ribbons,  and 
scattered  over  the  pack. 


THE  GREAT  ICE  PALACE.  291 

The  palace,  too,  needed  seeing  to  after  a  snow-gale,  for 
some  portions  of  it  were  usually  completely  covered  with 
the  drift  and  the  ice-dust. 

No  less  than  two  stoves  were  arranged  in  the  hall.  The 
floor  was  planked  in  portions;  there  was  a  wooden  stage, 
and  on  nights  when  a  concert  was  to  be  given  the  yacht 
piano  itself  was  requisitioned  from  the  ship's  saloon,  and  the 
fires  lit  hours  before  the  performance  took  place. 

The  opening  night  had  been  a  very  glorious  one,  for 
Nature  herself  gave  a  grand  display  of  fireworks,  by  which 
I  must  be  understood  to  mean  the  aurora  borealis.  The 
aurora,  indeed,  that  night  seemed  specially  ordered  for  the 
occasion,  and  was  of  the  most  brilliant  colours,  great  curtains 
of  phosphorescent  flame  dancing  and  flickering  around  the 
doorway  and  flanking  towers,  in  a  manner  that  was  really 
magical. 

Until  this  winter  neither  of  our  young  heroes  knew  that 
he  could  write  anything  that  was  fit  to  read.  But  suddenly 
their  genius  broke  out  in  a  new  place,  and  they  found  them- 
selves every  forenoon  collaborating  in  the  writing  of  a 
play.  It  was  not  a  long  one  by  any  means,  and  it  required 
only  the  authors,  with  Eudland,  and  one  of  the  seamen  for- 
ward— who  was  very  clever — to  effect  its  production.  But 
in  addition  to  this  there  was,  of  course,  the  music  of  violin 
and  piano. 

The  manufacture  of  the  dresses  required  far  more  skill 
and  art,  it  appears  to  me,  than  did  the  building  of  "The 
Royal  Fear  Not  Palace  and  Opera  House  ". 

But  not  only  dresses  and  scenery,  but  the  play  itself  was 
put  on  the  boards  at  last,  and  pronounced  a  complete  suc- 
cess. It  ran  for  twenty  days,  and  then  came  a  libretto  and 
a  farce,  then  something  else,  and  so  on,  and  so  forth.  Be- 
tween each  act,  in  the  good  old-fashioned  style,  songs,  both 
comic  and  sentimental,  were  sung,  and  often,  too,  exhibitions 
of  skill  in  athletics — such  as  Indian  club  exercise — would 
be  given  by  one  of  the  men.  Dancing  was  not  forgotten  in 
the  hall. 

Nights  were  set  apart  especially  for  this  latter,  with  little 
comic  interacts  and  songs.  The  dancing  was  confined  to 


292         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

jigs,  hornpipes,  and  strathspeys,  and  the  man  who  could  not 
have  danced  to  the  mad,  merry  music  of  Donaldson's  fiddle 
and  the  piano,  would  have  been  very  stiff  and  stupid  in- 
deed. 

During  these  merry  meetings  in  the  palace,  which  took 
place  at  least  three  times  a  week,  coffee  and  tea  were  served 
out  in  abundance. 

But,  independent  of  evening  entertainments,  Reynolds, 
whenever  the  weather  permitted,  encouraged  all  kinds  of 
athletic  games  and  sports  upon  the  ice.  They  had  races, 
and  jumping,  high  leap,  close-foot  leap,  vaulting  with  the 
pole,  hop-step-and-jump,  putting  the  stone,  and  throwing  the 
heavy  hammer  and  the  light.  Also  shooting  at  the  target. 

And  one  day  every  week  was  devoted  to  a  match  or  trial 
of  skill,  always  providing  that  the  day  was  clear  and  starry. 
Prizes  were  offered  for  competition  by  both  Reynolds  and 
Lord  Daybreak,  so  that  on  match  days  there  was  no  end  of 
fun  and  excitement. 

There  was  the  greatest  fun,  perhaps,  got  out  of  the  sack 
race  and  the  obstruction  race,  in  both  of  which  Olaf  and 
Svolto  usually  carried  away  the  highest  honours. 

Another  strange  competition  had  been  invented  by  Joe 
himself,  who  was  one  of  the  principal  competitors,  too.  It 
only  took  place  on  bright,  moonlight  nights,  and  consisted 
in  a  blindfold  march  towards  an  object  at  a  distance,  say,  of 
150  yards.  This  walk  or  race — though  time  was  no  object 
— became  a  great  favourite,  and  it  was  exceedingly  droll,  to 
the  onlookers  at  all  events.  For  seldom  did  a  competitor 
ever  reach  within  yards  of  the  goal;  some  would  bear  away 
to  the  right,  some  to  the  left;  on  several  occasions,  indeed, 
a  man  would  keep  bearing  to  the  right  until  he  had  com- 
pleted a  circle  round  the  ship,  coming  back,  to  his  own 
utter  astonishment,  at  the  very  place  from  which  he  started. 

Shooting  with  the  rifle  was  a  rather  puzzling  trial  of  skill, 
owing  to  the  uncertain  light.  Usually  a  bottle  was  stuck 
on  top  of  a  hummock,  and  the  competitors  fired  at  that; 
but  even  Olaf,  who  was  by  far  and  away  the  best  shot  in 
the  ship,  failed  to  break  the  bottle  five  tries  out  of  six. 


THE  GREAT  ICE  PALACE.  293 

One  evening  towards  the  end  of  March,  Reynolds,  be- 
tween the  acts  of  one  of  Colin's  plays,  took  possession  of  the 
rostrum. 

"  I  am  just  standing  here,"  he  said,  "  so  that  I  may  be 
better  seen,  for  I  would  not  think  of  taking  up  your  pleasant 
time  by  making  a  dry-as-dust  speech. 

"  Boys,"  he  continued,  "  I'm  as  pleased  as  Punch,  not  to 
put  too  fine  a  point  on  it,  that  you  have  all  been  so  good. 
And,  on  the  whole,  I  think  the  time  has  flown  very  quickly 
indeed." 

"Hear,  hear!"  and  "Hurrah!" 

"  Why,  men,  we'll  soon  have  the  sun  back  again  to  greet 
us." 

"Hurrah!  for  the  jolly  old  sun!" 

"  Yes,  and  we've  been  healthy,  too.  So  healthy,  indeed, 
that  our  worthy  medico  complains  that  he  has  not  had  a  case 
worth  treating.  To  speak  the  truth,  his  only  patients  have 
been  the  dogs.  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  we  have  lost  five  in 
all;  but  our  good  doctor  has  cured  all  the  rest;  for,  what- 
ever the  disease  was  from  which  they  suffered — " 

"  Influenza  borealis,"  interrupted  Rudland,  much  to  every- 
body's amusement. 

"  Well,  anyhow,  Dr.  Rudland  Syme  has  proved  himself  a 
good  man  and  a  gentleman,  for  he  has  not  considered  it  be- 
neath the  dignity  of  the  noble  profession  to  which  he  belongs 
to  minister  to  the  ailments  and  ease  the  sufferings  of  our  dear, 
dumb  friends." 

"Hear!  hear!     Three  cheers  for  Dr.  Rudland  Syme!" 

The  doctor  received  his  cheers — hearty  ones  they  were — 
and  bowed  his  thanks. 

"Well,  men,"  continued  Reynolds,  "let  me  thank  you 
all  for  having  spent  the  winter  in  a  spirit  so  thoroughly 
cheerful  and  Christian  -  like,  and  I  have  now  only  one 
announcement  to  make,  but  I  feel  sure  it  will  give  you  joy. 
Paddy  in  the  song,  you  know,  while  describing  his  voyage 
from  Dublin  to  Cork  in  a  steamboat,  declared  to  his  friend, 
that  though 

"  '  All  the  time  he  was  standing  stock-still, 
Yet  all  the  while  he  was  moving '. 


294         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

And  as  with  Paddy,  so  it  has  been  with  us.  Though  fires 
are  out  in  the  engine-room,  though  the  machinery  has  been 
standing  stock-still,  and  never  a  stitch  of  canvas  set  to  woo 
the  wind,  yet  all  the  while  we  have  been  moving. 

"  And  I  can  tell  you,  or  my  good  mate,  Joseph,  yonder, 
can  tell  you,  that  we  have  been  carried  onwards  and  north- 
wards by  the  irresistible  force  of  the  current,  and  that  we 
are  at  this  moment  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  nearer  to 
the  Pole  than  on  the  day  we  were  first  beset  in  this  great 
wilderness  of  ice.  This  is  no  great  record,  I  confess.  It 
gives  us  but  little  over  two  miles  a  day.  But  when  the 
summer  returns,  and  the  ice  opens  far  away  beyond  the 
Pole  and  near  to  the  islands  of  Jan  Mayen  and  Iceland; 
when  stream  after  stream  is  detached  from  the  main  pack  in 
those  latitudes  that  we  all  know  so  well,  then  will  our  float- 
ing rate  of  speed  be  far  greater,  and  long  before  the  summer 
is  over  and  the  sun  begins  to  set  again,  I  trust  in  heaven 
that  the  British  flag  will  wave  in  triumph  over  the  very 
Pole  itself." 

"Hurrah!     Hip,  hip,  hip,  hurrah!" 

And  the  hall  of  the  Ice  Palace  rang  back  that  lusty  cheer 
from  its  strangely  beautiful  vaulted  roof. 

This  roof  inside  was  indeed  gorgeous  now,  for  the  heat 
of  the  stoves  had  sufficed  to  melt  enough  of  it  to  form  icicles, 
and  these  hung  down  in  all  directions,  sparkling, — crimson, 
green,  or  blue, — in  the  lamplight. 

The  captain  stepped  down  from  the  stage,  but  his  little 
speech  had  done  much  good.  He  had  raised  hope  in  the 
hearts  of  his  men,  and  this  hope  would  assuredly  bear  fruit 
in  the  shape  of  additional  health. 

And  they  would  need  all  of  it  they  could  possess,  for 
verily  their  greatest  trials  were  yet  to  come. 


THE   BLACK   DEATH.  295 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    BLACK   DEATH. 

TT7ITH  this  chapter  the  curtain  rises  on  the  last  act  of 
T  V  our  tale.  The  last  act,  I  say,  but  an  act  that  will  be 
crowded  with  many  a  strange  scene,  and  some  of  them, 
alas!  sad  enough.  Gladly,  indeed,  would  I  mitigate  the 
sadness  or  delete  it  entirely,  but  to  do  so  would  be  to 
lay  only  half  the  truth  before  the  reader;  for,  ah  me!  the 
stories  that  come  to  us  year  after  year  of  the  splendid 
courage  of  our  northern  explorers  are  ever  fraught  with 
sorrow  and  with  grief. 

The  long,  dreary  night  of  Arctic  winter  wore  away  at 
last.  And  I  may  add  that  it  had  been  spent,  on  the  whole, 
very  pleasantly  indeed. 

Just  as  he  went  away,  or  retired,  so  did  the  sun  return, 
with  the  same  splendour  of  sky -colouring,  and  with  the 
promise  of  long,  bright  days  to  come. 

Much  poetical  feeling  and  much  magnificent  language  has 
been  expended — I  must  not  say  wasted — by  authors  in  de- 
scribing the  rapture  with  which  those  who  have  been  frozen 
up  all  winter  in  the  icy  north  hail  the  return  of  the  king 
of  day.  My  own  heroes  all  undoubtedly  welcomed  the  sun's 
first  appearance  with  joy  and  with  shouts,  as  they  clustered 
high  in  the  rigging  and  crowded  the  nest.  But  the  inten- 
sity of  their  joy  was  in  some  degree  lessened  by  the  thought 
that  the  sun  must  shine  all  the  summer  long,  and  sink  and 
rise  again  before  he  could  bring  to  their  hearts  the  hope 
of  speedily  reaching  their  homes. 

And  what  a  long  time  it  did  seem  to  look  forward  to! 
Well,  the  best  plan  they  could  adopt  for  shortening  the 
time  was  not  to  think  about  it  at  all 

"What  is  the  good,"  said  Olaf,  "of  one's  worrying  one's 
self  over  anything  in  the  world,  anyhow  ?  Look  how  happy 


296         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

the  cat  is  yonder.  She  doesn't  worry,  nor  wonder  either, 
but  just  takes  things  as  they  come." 

The  night  of  Arctic  winter  wore  away  then,  but  not,  of 
course,  the  winter  itself,  for,  as  an  Irish  member  of  the  crew 
once  said,  "Winter  stays  on  all  summer  in  the  polar  regions." 

So  it  does ;  but  it  was  very  pleasant,  nevertheless,  to  have 
the  sun  back.  It  was  even  more  pleasant  to  find  out,  as 
Captain  Reynolds  soon  did,  that  with  the  quickly -increasing 
length  of  days,  the  drifting  progress  was  being  increased, 
and  that  the  great  ice-ocean  was  still  floating  due  north 
towards  the  Pole. 

Sledging  was  soon  commenced  now.  It  was  right  that 
they  should  be  most  perfect  in  sleigh-drill,  as  the  captain 
called  it.  And  since  the  spring  snows  had  fallen — terrible 
storms  some  of  these  had  been — the  floes  or  floe-bergs, 
previously  only  joined  together  by  bay-ice,  were  levelled  up 
as  to  their  divisions  by  drifts,  and  so  the  whole  country 
appeared  to  be  one  unbroken  surface. 

Remember  this,  however,  reader,  that  such  a  state  of  ice  in 
the  polar  regions  is  not  one  that  can  exist  for  any  very  great 
length  of  time,  for  if  a  swell  comes  rolling  in  from  seaward 
the  bay  ice  between  the  bergs  is,  of  course,  ground  up,  or 
crushed  under,  or  thrown  over  the  heavy  ice,  and  the  snow 
on  top  of  it  becomes  slush. 

Many  of  these  sledging  excursions  were  very  pleasant, 
and  our  heroes  soon  regained  the  healthy  colour  in  their 
faces  that  the  darkness  had  entirely  deprived  them  of,  hav- 
ing substituted  for  rosy  cheeks  and  well-tanned  skins  a 
sickly  yellow  hue.  As  they  got  rosier  again  in  complexion 
they  got  happier  in  heart,  and  all  throughout  their  excur- 
sions laughing  and  joking  and  singing  were  constantly  heard. 

"No  sport,  that's  the  worst  of  it!" 

That  was  a  lament  from  Olaf. 

"0,  wouldn't  I  give  something  to  see  a  bear!"  he  added. 

"  Well,"  said  Reynolds  by  way  of  comforting  him  perhaps, 
"  you  must  keep  your  mind  easy  and  live  in  hope.  There 
is  no  saying  what  we  may  not  see  yet.  Why,  Olaf,  you 
may  meet  a  mammoth  some  day  when  we  get  farther  north, 
you  know." 


THE   BLACK   DEATH.  297 

"  Or  a  megatherium,"  said  Colin. 

"Well,"  laughed  Reynolds,  "I  don't  think  that  is  very 
likely." 

"  And  if  I  did  meet  a  mammoth,  it  would  very  likely  be 
a  dead  one.  No  sport  in  that." 

"Well,  no,"  said  Joseph;  "but  you  know  if  we  could  find 
one  well  preserved  in  the  ice,  we  could  skin  him  and  stuff 
him  and  take  him  home." 

"  And  sell  him  to  Barnum,"  suggested  Rudland  Syme. 

"Not  for  Joe,"  said  Joseph.  "I  would  stick  to  the  dar- 
ling till  I  made  my  fortune." 

"  Then,"  said  Colin,  "  you  could  sell  it  cheap  to  Rudland 
Syme,  and  he  could  make  his.  He  wouldn't  have  to  depend 
upon  his  old  gum-lancet  any  more." 

"  Well,  gentlemen,"  put  in  Sigurd  naively  as  he  relit  his 
pipe,  for  this  was  an  after-dinner  conversation,  "I  have 
never  seen  the  bird  myself." 

"  No,"  said  Reynolds  laughing,  "  you  were  born  too  late 
in  the  day,  my  friend,  to  see  the  bird.  Besides,  the  bird 
happens  to  be,  or  to  have  been,  a  beast." 

"  A  kind  of  elephant,  Sigurd,"  he  continued,  "  that  ages 
agone  lived  in  the  very  far  north  of  Europe,  and  at  a  time 
when  no  doubt  trees  and  forests  flourished  even  in  the 
polar  regions — which,  however,  might  not  have  been  pre- 
cisely polar  in  those  days.  This  elephant  was  of  immense 
size,  as  their  carcasses,  found  even  to  this  day  frozen  in  the 
ice,  testify.  Some  must  have  been  about  ten  feet  high  at 
the  shoulder,  and  twenty  feet  long  from  the  jaws  to  the  tail. 
These  huge,  ungainly  monsters  must  have  wandered  through 
the  forests  of  the  north,  feeding  chiefly  on  the  leaves  and 
twigs  of  trees.  Their  tusks  were  of  very  great  length,  and 
bent  upwards  in  more  than  half  a  circle.  These  hook-like 
tusks  would  enable  them  to  break  down  the  branches  and 
thus  supply  themselves  with  food,  for  of  course  these  noble 
animals  were  vegetable-feeders.  What  are  you  laughing  to 
yourself  about,  Olaff 

"For  the  time  being  I  could  not  help  fancying  I  saw 
a  real  live  mammoth  at  the  Zoo — your  grand  English  Zoo, 
I  mean — towering  above  all  the  other  elephants,  his  head 


298       ,   TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

tossed  high  in  air,  his  curled  tusks  held  proudly  aloft, 
dwarfing  even  Jumbo  who  stands  next  him;  bold,  fearless, 
wise,  but  affectionate  withal,  for,  see,  he  bends  low  for  a 
moment  and  extends  a  trunk  like  the  limb  of  an  oak  to- 
wards an  innocent  child  held  up  by  its  nurse  to  place  a 
sweet  therein — a  tiny  little  lollipop  it  is,  so  small  that  the 
mammoth  will  scarce  be  able  to  taste  it,  and  yet,  to  please 
the  child,  he  delicately  conveys  it  to  his  mouth  and  makes 
pretence  to  enjoy  it." 

"Olaf!"  said  Colin,  "I  believe,  after  all,  there  is  a  little 
vein  of  poetry  in  your  nature — at  times." 

"  0,  it  is  always  there,"  said  Olaf;  "  only  it  is  so  far  down 
that  it  takes  a  long  rod  to  stir  it  up." 

"Men,"  said  Reynolds  one  morning  at  breakfast — it  was 
all  morning  now,  however,  or  rather  it  was  all  day,  for  the 
sun  would  not  set  again  for  months — "men,  rejoice  with 
me !  We  are  within  three  hundred  miles  of  the  Pole.  Will 
it  not  be  a  glorious  day  for  us  all  when  the  Union  Jack 
floats  on  the  spot  where  east  meets  west,  where  north  is  no 
more  and  all  is  south  beneath  us?" 

"Glorious!"  said  Colin  and  Joe  both  in  one  breath. 

Just  then  Eudland  Syme  came  in  and  sat  down.  He  was 
looking  somewhat  abstracted,  not  to  say  care-worn. 

"What!"  cried  Reynolds,  "is  our  good  old  medico  off  his 
feed?" 

Rudland  smiled,  mechanically  one  might  say,  and,  receiv- 
ing his  plate  from  Henry  the  steward,  placed  it  before  him, 
and  began  toying  with  his  knife  and  fork. 

"  I'm  puzzled,  Captain  Reynolds.  And  you'll  be  sorry  to 
hear  what  I  have  to  say." 

"  Come,"  said  Reynolds.  "  Calling  me  Captain  Reynolds 
sounds  official." 

"  Yes,  sir;  I  mean  my  communication  to  be  so  considered. 
I  have  been  up  all  night  with  the  dogs  that  you  know  were 
ailing  yesterday." 

"And  they  are  better,  of  course1?" 

"  They  are  better,  no  doubts,  but — they  are  dead." 

"Dead?" 


THE   BLACK  DEATH.  299 

"Yes,  three  in  all.  Dead  and  buried  in  the  snow. 
Chauss's  wife  is  among  the  number,  and  Chauss  and  Lakoff 
and  even  the  boy  Svolto  are  inconsolable." 

"And  what  is  the  disease?" 

"  That  I  can  scarcely  inform  you.  In  Britain  they  would 
call  it  'the  yellows';  but  it  is  a  most  dreadful  form  of  the 
complaint.  I  made  a  post-mortem  on  one,  and  found  the 
liver  almost  quite  disintegrated." 

"'The  yellows',  is  it?" 

"I  did  not  say  so.  I  would  go  further,and  say  Yellow  Jack." 

"Doctor,  don't  frighten  us." 

"  I  must  go  further  still,  I  fear,  and  say — " 

"What?" 

"The  Black  Death!" 

The  Black  Death !  A  chill  seemed  to  strike  cold  and  icy 
to  the  heart  of  everyone  who  sat  at  the  table.  Sigurd  let 
fall  his  knife  and  fork.  Joe  stared  with  open  mouth. 

But  it  was  the  blanched  look  of  terror  in  Sigurd's  face 
that  attracted  most  attention. 

All  eyes  were  turned  towards  him. 

"Sigurd,"  said  Reynolds  slowly,  hesitatingly — he  was 
about  to  ask  for  the  truth,  yet  apparently  dreaded  to  hear 
it — "Sigurd,  you,  with  your  vast  experience,  know  some- 
thing of  the  Black—3 

He  paused.  The  words  were  such  ominous  ones  he  did 
not  like  to  use  them.  "  Of  this  strange  disease,"  he  added. 

Sigurd's  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  compass  that  swung 
overhead,  and  as  he  answered  he  seemed  speaking  more  to 
himself  than  to  anyone  else. 

"  It  was  out  in  the  Bay  of  Baffin.  We  called  it  Baffin's 
Sea.  Our  ship  was  the  Godhaab.  Far  beyond  Disko  we 
had  sailed,  for  the  ice  was  strangely  open  that  year.  Our 
voyage  was  already  a  good  one.  We  should  have  been  con- 
tent. '  A  few  more  whales.  Just  three  white  whales ',  our 
skipper  said,  'and  then  southward  we  will  sail  to  Bergen, 
where  our  wives  and  sweethearts  wait  our  return  with  long- 
ing eyes  and  prayers'." 

"  One  moment,  Sigurd,"  said  Olaf.  "  This  is  a  story  you 
have  never  even  told  to  me?" 


300          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"No,  because  of  its  sadness." 

"But  one  question  more,  then.  Was  the  skipper  my 
poor  father1?" 

"No,  boy,  no;  I  was  not  then  with  your  father.  I  was 
but  a  child  or  little  more." 

"Proceed." 

"B-eikjav,  as  we  called  him,  was  an  Eskimo.  He  came 
with  us  from  Godhaven  in  Disko  Isle.  Reikjav  and  his  two 
dogs — a  brave  and  wise  harpooner  was  this  Eskimo.  Many 
a  whale  he  had  struck  and  speared  ere  then.  Of  his 
courage,  indeed,  there  was  no  end.  But  he  would  not  come 
without  his  dogs.  North  and  north  went  we,  but,  alas! 
no  white  whale  was  seen.  0,  it  was  not  Reikjav's  fault. 
Yet  when  the  frost  fell,  and  we  knew  we  were  beset  for  all 
the  darksome  winter,  our  skipper  grew  red  and  angry,  and 
much  he  abused  poor  Reikjav.  Reikjav  only  put  his  hand 
to  his  face  and  bent  low  his  head.  Then  our  angry  skipper 
struck  him,  and  blood  stained  the  snow  on  the  deck.  Reik- 
jav sobbed  like  a  child,  and  staggered  forward.  I  think  I 
see  him  now.  I  think  I  hear  his  sobs  as  he  lay  between 
his  two  dogs  near  the  bowsprit.  Next  morning  there  was 
no  Reikjav.  He  seemed  taken  by  spirits  of  the  air.  Only 
the  dogs  sat  there  and  howled  by  the  ice  hole !  Their  master 
could  not  stand  the  disgrace  of  that  blow.  In  there  he  had 
dropped,  and  the  current  had  done  the  rest." 

"  Go  on,  Sigurd,  although  your  tale  is  a  melancholy  one." 

"  In  one  night  both  dogs  died — it  was  the  Black  Death. 
Then  man  after  man.  Ah !  I  must  be  brief.  It  was  all  too 
terrible.  Because  captain  and  mate  took  drink,  drink,  drink. 
Then  there  was  mutiny,  and  all  the  spirits  were  emptied  on 
the  snow.  Then  death  again — death,  death,  death.  Captain 
and  mate  went  first. 

"Gentlemen,"  continued  Sigurd,  "when  we  were  first 
beset  we  were  twenty-nine  all  told,  when  the  spring  sun 
showed  his  face  we  were  but  seven — only  seven,  and  the 
ship  went  down ! 

"But  the  ice  opened,  and  we  on  our  floes  went  floating 
south.  Cold,  starvation,  frost-bite.  Then  to  me  was  all 
forge  tfulness." 


THE   BLACK   DEATH.  301 

"How  many  of  the  seven  were  saved,  Sigurd?" 

"How  many?     Not  many.     Only  me!" 

There  was  very  little  further  conversation  that  morning 
at  table. 

Captain  Reynolds  was  the  first  to  rise.  He  looked  at 
Rudland,  and  Rudland  followed  him  into  the  after-cabin. 
Reynolds  pointed  to  a  seat.  "Doctor,  there  is  danger? 
Danger  to  us  all,  I  mean — to  men  and  dogs?"  he  added. 

"True,  sir,  true." 

"Well,  now,  if  I  am  wrong  put  me  right — is  not  one 
half  the  danger  mental  in  its  origin?" 

"It  is,"  said  Syme;  "and  I  am  glad,  sir,  you  recognize 
that  fact." 

"Very  well,  having  grasped  this,  am  I  right  now  or 
wrong  in  saying  that  in  exercise  both  for  dogs  and  men, 
employment,  I  mean — and  we  must  make  it  as  pleasant  as 
possible — lies  our  chief  hope  of  averting  a  terrible  evil?" 

"  One  of  our  hopes,  at  all  events,  sir.  We  have  two  more, 
medicine  and  regimen." 

"  We  will  begin  at  once  then." 

"I  have  begun  my  part.  I  have  set  the  men  to  work 
on  a  snow  igloo  for  the  sickly  or  suspected  dogs,  I  have 
changed  the  position  of  the  kennels  on  board,  I  have  ordered 
an  extra  supply  of  medicated  lime-juice  for  all  hands,  and  I 
have  altered  the  men's  diet  somewhat — and  rationally,  I 
trust." 

"Well  done,  Syme!  You're  a  good  fellow!  You  have 
at  once  taken  the  bull  by  the  horns.  Now  I'll  do  my  part." 

"  That  is  right.  And  whatever  is  done  must  be  done  at 
once.  So  now,  Captain,  I'm  off  forward  again." 

When  Reynolds,  long  before  breakfast  that  day,  had  be- 
taken himself  to  the  crow's  nest  to  have  his  customary  look 
round,  he  had  discovered  far  away  to  the  north-east  what 
he  at  first  thought  was  a  rising  cloud.  He  went  straight 
up  into  the  nest  again  now.  The  cloud  was  still  there. 

It  had  altered  neither  in  size  nor  in  position.  The  cloud 
was  a  mountain ! 

"On  deck  there,  Joe!" 


302         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"  That's  me,  sir,"  cried  Joseph,  looking  up. 

"Land  on  the  starboard  bow!" 

"Land,  sir?" 

"  Yes,  mate;  come  and  see." 

The  news  spread  through  the  ship  like  wildfire.  Dog 
sickness,  black  death — everything  was  forgotten.  Land! 
What  a  delightful  sound  had  the  word — Land?  What  a 
delicious  ring  there  was  about  it?  Land?  Why,  they  had 
not  seen  land  for  a  hundred  years,  to  judge  from  their  feel- 
ings. 

But  when  the  captain  gave  an  order,  and  Sigurd  followed 
it  up  by  rushing  forward,  beating  the  deck  with  his  heavy 
foot  and  shouting  "  Away  dogs,  and  boat,  and  sledges,"  then 
the  excitement  was  intense. 

The  land  must  be  fully  thirty  miles  away,  so  it  would  be 
a  long  and  toilsome  journey.  Never  mind,  it  was  a  journey 
with  a  purpose.  That  purpose  was  to  raise  the  spirits  of 
officers  and  men,  and  to  drive  from  their  minds  all  thoughts 
of  sickness  or  of  coming  evil. 

I  might  say,  indeed,  that  the  purpose  was  a  double  or 
triple  one,  for  the  journey  would  drill  the  men  in  the 
dragging  of  boats  and  sledges  over  ice  and  snow,  and  it 
would  give  Eeynolds  an  opportunity  of  making  observations 
that  would  be  useful  from  a  scientific  point  of  view. 

Sleeping-bags  were  taken,  plenty  of  food  for  dogs  and 
men,  and  a  plentiful  allowance  of  coffee  and  tea,  with  a 
modicum  of  medicine,  including  spirits. 

The  cook  and  one  man,  besides  the  doctor  and  Svolto, 
were  all  that  were  left  behind,  so  that,  in  a  measure,  the 
ship  was  deserted. 

The  dogs  were  soon  in  harness,  and  glad  they  seemed  to 
be  to  get  off.  LakofFs  little  whip  cracked  loudly  on  the  still 
air,  a  cheer  was  raised,  and  away  bounded  the  expedition. 
The  light  boats  had  been  placed  on  runners,  so  that  as  long 
as  the  surface  of  the  ice  was  smooth  it  was  possible  to  go 
dashing  onwards  at  a  wonderful  speed. 

Csesar  and  Keltic  were  the  only  dogs  who  did  no  work, 
but  the  noble  Newfoundland  considered  himself  in  command 
of  the  whole  caravan,  and  Keltic  was  his  first  lieutenant. 


THE  BLACK  DEATH.  303 

Reynolds,  Sigurd,  and  our  two  younger  heroes  were  on 
skier,  each  singly,  but  all  the  others — including,  of  course, 
Donaldson  and  Jones  also — wore  snow-shoes,  but  gladly 
assisted  the  dogs  in  their  task  whenever  they  came  to  an 
uneven  surface. 

Fifteen  miles  were  covered  that  day,  and  after  that  rest 
and  sleep  became  imperative.  There  was  no  wind,  so  it 
was  not  considered  necessary  to  erect  a  tent.  Supper  was 
soon  discussed.  Then  everybody  turned  in,  though  not  to 
sleep.  The  bags  were  so  arranged  that  all  could  lie  and 
talk  Those  who  did  not  smoke  drank  coffee.  As  for  the 
sledge  dogs,  they  huddled  together  all  in  a  heap,  with  the 
exception  of  Chauss,  who  snuggled  up  in  his  master's  arms 
under  a  bear-skin  rug  in  one  of  the  boats. 

Before  going  to  sleep  that  night,  there  was  a  good  deal  of 
talk  about  the  probable  character  of  the  ice  they  should  fall 
in  with  about  or  around  the  Pole.  Reynolds,  of  course,  was 
the  chief  speaker,  although  he  listened  with  great  deference 
to  the  opinions  of  Sigurd. 

"  I  cannot  quite  get  that  big  word  beginning  with  a  '  P ' 
to  stick  to  my  memory,"  said  Sigurd,  or  words  to  that  effect. 
"  But,"  he  added,  "  I  don't  altogether  hold  with  the  doctrine 
of  a  very  heavy  and  immovable  ice-cap." 

"  You  refer  to  palseocrystic  ice?"  put  in  Reynolds. 

"That  is  the  word,  sir.  But  I  know  that  some  believe 
that  the  Pole  for  hundreds  of  miles  is  one  gigantic  ice-cap 
parting  now  and  then  with  huge  masses  or  islands  of  ice 
which  they  call  floe-bergs,  such  as  have  been  met  with  to  the 
far  north  of  Greenland  and  elsewhere." 

"Yes,"  said  Reynolds,  "it  is  right,  Sigurd,  to  say  else- 
where, because  the  shallowness  of  the  sea  prevents  their 
floating  everywhere.  They  would  ground  and  disintegrate 
or  fall  to  pieces,  these  pieces  floating  over  the  banks  and 
finding  their  way  south." 

"Certainly,  sir;  but  no  gravel  has  been  found  attached 
to  these  island-floes,  and  hence  they  argue  that  they  are 
portions  of  the  ancient  ice  of  immense  thickness,  and  not  parts 
broken  of  from  the  glaciers  that  have  come  from  some  shore. 

"  But,"  he  continued,  "is  the  want  of  gravel  proof  positive 


304          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

that  such  is  the  case.  For,  sir,  would  not  an  island  of  ice, 
floating  for  some  time,  part  with  its  bottom  gravel?" 

"Well,  Sigurd,  we  don't  know  all  the  mysteries  of  the 
polar  regions  yet,  and  a  deal  of  talk  that  we  hear  in  Eng- 
land, about  the  formation  of  the  various  forms  of  ice  is  mere 
theory  or  conjecture.  But  my  opinion  is  this,  and  it  will 
be  rough  on  all  of  us  if  I  am  not  right,  that  ice  does  float 
from  the  latitudes — say  of  the  New  Siberian  Islands — 
right  across  the  Pole;  and  that  though,  for  instance,  the 
very  floe  in  which  our  good  ship  is  now  enharboured  may,  no 
doubt,  increase  in  thickness  during  next  winter,  it  will  not 
become  any  portion  of  a  real  floe-berg  or  ice-island." 

"And  these  ice-islands,  sir?" 

"  These  islands  of  ice,  Joe — though  I  speak  with  all  due 
deference  to  the  opinions  of  others — may  be  detached  por- 
tions of  glaciers  after  all." 

"Do  you  hint  at  the  probability,"  said  Colin,  "  of  land 
around  the  Pole?" 

Reynolds  laughed. 

"  You  read  my  very  thoughts,"  he  said. 

"We  may  not,"  he  added,  "meet  with  any  very  large 
continent.  For  whatever  may  have  existed  in  the  shape  of 
a  continent  in  ages  long  gone  by,  may,  and  doubtless  is,  now 
cut  up  into  islands.  The  sea-currents  act  on  continents, 
Colin.  Fjords  become  deeper  and  deeper  till  they  cut 
their  way  from  shore  to  shore;  then  your  continent  be- 
comes a  series  of  islands." 

"  True,  sir." 

"But  I  think,  men,  that  a  mighty  floe-berg  may  be 
formed  in  a  crush  or  jam  among  ice.  The  Lord  Himself, 
and  He  only,  can  calculate  the  terrible  force  of  an  ice 
crush,  if  the  onward  flow  of  a  pack  meets  with  resistance  in 
the  shape  of  land.  We  have  all  seen  bay  ice  and  pancake 
ice  heaped  up  on  the  top  of  floes  in  a  pack  to  form  high 
hummocks,  and  we  have  seen  larger  ice  broken  up  into 
boulders  in  a  crush,  but  this  was  but  in  an  ordinary  jam 
such  as  sealers  are  subjected  to  often  enough  when  a  swell 
rolls  in  from  the  ocean.  It  is  different  with  ice  jams  in 
regions  farther  north  of  the  latitudes  in  which  we  now  rest. 


THE  BLACK  DEATH.  305 

We  have  all  the  currents  behind  us,  and — what  have  we 
ahead  ?  This  is  a  question  we  cannot  as  yet  answer.  But 
we  are  going  on  to  see." 

"  Do  you  think,  sir,"  said  Sigurd,  "  there  is  any  chance  of 
us  meeting  with  an  open  sea  around  the  Pole?" 

"  I  think,  my  good  friend  Sigurd,  that  this  open  sea  is  a 
mere  myth.  It  is  believed  in  by  many  sealing  skippers  and 
whalers,  but  not,  I  think,  by  any  truly  scientific  man." 

"  The  sealers  say  that  there  must  be  such  an  open  sea"- 
this  from  Joe — "  because  in  early  summer  we  meet  the  seals 
in  high  latitudes  coming  south  to  pup,  and  because,  as  we 
all  know,  when  their  puppies  are  old  enough  to  look  after 
themselves,  the  female  seals  rejoin  the  male,  and  all  go 
northwards  again  together  to  the  open  sea  around  the  Pole." 

"0,  yes,"  said  Sigurd;  "and  my  countrymen,  you  must 
know,  go  further  still  in  their  theory,  and  believe  that  not 
only  is  there  open  water  around  the  Pole,  but  green  islands, 
birds,  beasts,  and  vegetation." 

"Yes,  true,  Sigurd,"  laughed  Reynolds;  "and  the  notion 
is  a  very  pretty  one.  Fancy,  boys,  a  land  of  flowers  in  the 
frozen  ocean.  Islands  that,  seen  from  the  blue  sea,  hang 
like  emerald  fairy-lands  on  the  horizon;  islands  on  whose 
shores  of  silvery  sand  peaceful  waves  are  breaking;  islands 
covered  with  woods  and  wilds  and  waving  forests,  in  which 
many  a  bright-winged  bird  is  singing,  and  through  which 
float  butterfly,  moth,  and  beetle  ten  times  more  radiant 
and  lovely  than  any  ever  met  with  in  the  tropics,  while 
fruits  the  most  luscious  bend  the  branches  of  the  trees  earth- 
wards, and  flowers  rich  and  rare  nod  over  many  a  purling 
brook  and  stream." 

"Ah,"  said  Colin,  "I  shall  go  to  sleep  right  away  and 
dream  about  that." 

"It  must  be  on  islands  such  as  these,"  Olaf  thought, 
"  that  the  mammoth  still  roves  and  roams." 

"Yes,  Olaf,  if  the  land  of  flowers  exists  at  all  around 
the  Pole,  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  you  will  find  the 
mammoth  there." 

"But  good-night  all,  and  pleasant  dreams." 

"Good-night." 

(983)  U 


306         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  SEA  OF  CHAOS — AT  THE  POLE  ITSELF — GOD  SAVE 
THE  QUEEN! 

FOR  many  miles  farther  the  little  expedition  was  con- 
tinued without  finding  ice  that  was  difficult  to  cross, 
but  towards  dinner-time  on  the  second  day  they  encamped 
on  the  edge  of  a  pack  that  gave  ample  evidence  that  here 
the  most  gigantic  forces  of  nature  had  been  at  work. 

At  first  Reynolds  hesitated  as  to  whether  he  should 
advance  even  another  mile.  Indeed,  when  all  his  com- 
panions were  sound  asleep  that  night,  he  lay  long  awake 
considering  the  matter.  Why  should  he  not  himself 
explore  a  little  way?  This  was  a  thought  that  crossed 
his  mind  about  midnight.  The  sun  was  shining  very 
brightly,  and  there  was  not  a  breath  of  wind.  Indeed, 
the  weather  was  almost  warm. 

So  he  slipped  quietly  out  of  his  bag,  and,  without  waking 
anyone,  took  his  way  towards  the  sea  of  rugged  ice.  He 
did  not  go  alone,  however — at  least  not  quite — for  he  soon 
heard  stealthy  footsteps  behind  him,  and,  looking  back,  beheld 
both  Caesar  and  Keltic. 

Their  ears  were  on  their  necks,  and  they  looked  most 
pleadingly  up  in  his  face. 

"Please  may  we  come?"  that  was  the  question  they 
seemed  to  ask. 

"0  certainly  come!"  that  was  the  answer. 

I  have  no  language  in  which  to  describe  this  sea  of  icy 
boulders.  Even  a  photograph  would  not  suffice  to  depict  it. 
Chaos !  That  was  its  name.  Reynolds,  after  walking  for  a 
time  over  or  through  it,  climbed  to  the  top  of  a  high 
hummock — no,  let  me  call  it  a  frozen  wave — and  gazed 
around  him.  Chaos!  Nothing  else.  The  ruggedness  had 
evidently  been  caused  by  a  great  ice-crush,  in  which  floes 
or  bergs  had  been  broken  into  boulders,  and  bay  and  pan- 
cake ice  raised  into  heaps  and  hillocks,  now  partially  clad  in 


A  SEA  OF  CHAOS.  307 

snow,  till  the  whole  looked  as  if  Giant  Frost  had  stretched 
out  his  glassy  wand,  touching  a  wind-tortured,  storm-tossed 
sea  of  water,  and  changing  it  in  one  moment  into  ice. 

Reynolds  and  the  dogs  went  on  and  on  for  miles,  but 
there  was  no  improvement.  High  above  him,  though 
far  away,  rose  high  hills  or  mountains.  That  was  an 
island,  or  the  rocky  cape  of  some  continent,  and  the  bold 
explorer  determined  that  he  would  reach  it. 

Then  he  returned,  and  once  more  crept  into  the  sleeping- 
bag.  His  slumbers  were  very  sound  now,  and  he  was  the 
very  last  to  awaken  in  the  morning. 

When  he  told  his  people  of  his  adventures  of  the  previous 
night — his  midnight  wanderings  in  the  sea  of  chaos — for  a 
time  they  seemed  incredulous,  and  thought  it  was  but  their 
captain's  fun.  Joe,  indeed,  was  not  quite  convinced  until 
he  saw  "with  his  own  eyes",  as  he  phrased  it,  the  trail  of 
dogs  and  man  among  the  snow. 

When  the  fearfully  rough  nature  of  the  ice  they  soon 
encountered  became  known,  Lord  Daybreak  counselled  leav- 
ing boats  and  sledges  behind,  and  even  the  dogs,  but  as  this 
would  have  interfered  with  the  drill  he  meant  all  hands 
to  have,  Reynolds  would  not  consent. 

"  Well,  Reynolds,"  said  Daybreak  after  a  time,  "  if  we 
can  overcome  such  a  field  of  ice  as  this  we  need  not  fear 
anything." 

"  That  is  just  it,"  said  Reynolds.  "  I  want  to  know  what 
we  can  do,  and  if  this  battle  with  the  ice  and  icy  chaos  does 
no  other  good,  it  will  at  anyrate  give  us  confidence." 

Dogs  here,  however,  were  practically  of  little  use.  It 
was  nearly  all  lifting  and  carrying,  quite  as  much  as  drag- 
ging. 

Only  four  miles  were  accomplished  that  day,  and  then, 
tired  and  weary  enough,  they  encamped  in  Chaos,  as  they 
continued  to  call  it.  And  so  it  continued  to  be  all  next 
day,  but  at  resting-time  they  found  themselves  close  to 
the  edge  of  what  seemed  a  frozen  fjord,  for  steep  rocks 
rose  at  each  side,  and  there  was  a  glen,  with  high  moun- 
tains at  the  far  end. 

"  How  can  you  account  for  this  stretch  of  what  at  a  very 


308         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

recent  period  must  have  been  open  water1?"  said  Day- 
break 

"It  is  evident,  I  think,"  replied  Reynolds,  "that  the 
crush  that  formed  the  sea  of  chaos  took  place  farther  round 
and  against  the  rocks,  and  that  Chaos  worked  round  this 
way,  and  that,  under  our  feet,  lies  a  shallow  bar.  I  will 
find  out  to-morrow." 

An  early  start  landward  was  made  next  day,  but  not 
before  soundings  had  been  taken.  To  their  astonishment 
they  found  that  the  water  here  was  barely  five  feet  deep, 
and  that  the  edge  of  the  heavy  ice  was  aground. 

How  delightful,  how  exhilarating,  was  the  swift  and 
dashing  drive  across  the  smooth,  snow-clad  fjord !  Everyone 
was  now  in  the  very  best  of  spirits,  and  the  health  of  the 
dogs  seemed  to  leave  nothing  to  be  desired.  They  went  on 
their  way  singing  and  shouting,  as  if  they  had  been  a  pack 
of  school-boys  off  for  a  holiday. 

The  journey  was  but  ten  miles  ere  they  struck  the  shore, 
and  everybody  was  sorry  it  was  not  twenty.  And  now 
came  the  mid-day  meal;  then  a  long  journey  up  the  glen. 
But  this  landed  them  at  the  foot  of  the  rugged  white  hills, 
so  dinner  was  ordered.  After  dinner,  the  sleeping-bags, 
tobacco,  tales,  and  songs,  till  sleeping  time. 

Up  early  next  day,  and  then  the  Alpine  party  was  formed. 
Daybreak  and  Jones  both  pleaded  fatigue,  but  Donaldson, 
Colin,  and  Olaf  were  all  ready  and  eager  to  accompany 
Reynolds.  So,  too,  were  Caesar  and  Keltic,  yet  both  were 
left  behind. 

Then  the  ascent  was  commenced.  They  took  axes,  ropes, 
and  poles,  and  slung  their  skier  across  their  backs. 

With  rifles  they  did  not  burden  themselves.  No  living 
thing  was  here,  no  bird,  no  beast !  No  human  being  hud 
ever  trodden  those  wilds  before !  They  were  walking  over 
the  very  grave  of  dead  nature,  and  the  mountain  they  began 
to  climb  was  but  the  mound  above  it. 

Excelsior!  Our  heroes  really  needed  to  take  this  word 
for  their  motto  to-day.  No  more  toilsome  ascent  was  pro- 
bably ever  made.  It  was  not  one  hill  only  they  had  to 
climb,  but  hills  on  hills,  with  wide  straths,  glaciers,  and 


A  SEA  OF  CHAOS.  309 

uplands  stretching  between.  But  across  these  latter  they 
skilobned,  only  looking  well  out  for  crevasses,  and  of  these 
they  encountered  many. 

Excelsior!  Yes,  on  and  on,  up  and  up,  and  the  higher 
they  mounted  the  more  bitter  grew  the  cold.  But  at  long, 
long  last  they  reached  the  summit  of  the  highest  hill,  which 
the  barometer  told  them  was  nearly  8000  feet  above  the  sea- 
level. 

They  forgot  the  cold  now,  as,  with  their  hoods  tied  across 
their  faces,  they  stood  there  entranced,  gazing  on  a  scene 
such  as  probably  was  never  before  witnessed  by  eyes  of 
man.  As  far  as  vision  could  reach  to  east,  to  west,  to 
north,  it  was  one  unbroken,  one  dazzling  prairie  of  snow- 
clad  ice.  "  Unbroken",  I  have  said;  well,  let  the  word 
stand,  for  as  far  as  colour  goes  it  is  in  a  great  measure 
correct.  But  the  surface  was  not  altogether  a  plain.  No 
land  could  be  descried  towards  the  west,  but  eastwards  and 
north  rose  on  the  horizon  the  rugged  peaks  of  innumerable 
mountains. 

Reynolds  made  many  observations,  which  he  duly  entered 
in  his  note-book,  although  his  gloved  hands  were  almost 
frozen. 

He  smiled  as  he  returned  the  book  to  his  pocket,  and 
turned  to  face  his  companions. 

"  I  think  you  are  satisfied,  sir,"  said  Colin,  as  well  as  he 
could  speak,  which,  owing  to  the  terrible  cold  and  the 
cutting  wind,  was  but  indistinctly. 

"I  am.  You  see  for  yourselves  that  there  is  land;  that 
there  are  islands  innumerable  here.  I  confess  to  you, 
though,  that  a  load  has  been  lifted  off  my  mind.  You  see 
there  is  no  appearance  of  land  to  the  westward.  How 
pleased  I  am.  On  that  fact  depends  the  success  of  our 
expedition." 

"  I  don't  quite  understand,"  said  Colin. 

"  I  do,"  said  Sigurd. 

"Tell  them,  Sigurd." 

"You  see,  Master  Olaf,  if  the  pack  on  which  we  are 
being  floated  towards  the  Pole — 

"  And  over  it,  Sigurd,"  put  in  Reynolds. 


310         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"  Yes,  and  over  it; — had,  I  was  saying,  this  pack  got  be- 
tween two  islands,  we  should  be  jammed  and  crushed." 

"But,"  Reynolds  added,  "the  crush  is  relieved  by  sea 
expanse  towards  the  west.  And  now,  men,  before  we  are 
frozen,  let  us  make  our  feet  our  friends,  and  get  downwards 
again  to  our  camp  as  fast  as  we  can." 

Before  commencing  the  descent,  however,  they  had  one 
more  look  around  them,  viewing  more  closely  the  island 
on  which  they  stood.  They  named  it  the  Isle  of  Chaos. 

And  surely  no  more  rugged  island  exists  in  all  the  world. 
Had  the  summer  been  further  advanced,  the  ascent  of  this 
mountain  would  have  been  found  impossible.  For  every- 
where in  its  glens,  and  even  in  the  ridges  between  its  highest 
hills,  were  vast  expanses  of  snow-clad  ice  which  in  July 
would  be  water  mixed  with  slush,  while  roaring  streams 
would  go  tumbling  down  the  hillsides,  forming  many  a 
foaming  cataract  as  they  dashed  onwards  to  the  sea. 

Reynolds  and  his  party  were  very  tired  indeed  when  they 
got  to  camp  that  night.  But  tea  revived  them,  and  I  would 
not  venture  to  say  how  many  cups  of  that  refreshing 
beverage  each  made  away  with. 

The  conversation  that  night  after  they  got  into  their 
bags  was  principally  speculative,  but  Reynolds  drew  many 
a  charming  word  picture  of  the  beauty  and  luxuriance  that 
this  very  island  may  have  presented  ages  and  ages 
ago. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  when  Olaf  fell  asleep  at  last  he 
dreamt  that  he  was  riding  through  its  wooded  glens  and 
straths,  mounted  on  the  back  of  a  mammoth  and  shooting 
ichthyosauri. 

This  was  not  the  only  sledging  tour,  not  by  scores,  I  may 
say,  that  our  heroes  took,  for  all  saw  the  advantages  to  be 
reaped  from  constant  exercise  and  employment. 

And  where  now  was  the  Black  Death  1  Gone.  Gone  for 
a  time,  at  all  events.  One  man,  however,  had  died  of  the 
terrible  plague,  and  several  more  dogs.  The  man  had  been 
a  great  favourite  on  board,  and  somehow  the  shadow  of  his 
untimely  end  seemed  to  linger  on  the  minds  of  the  crew  all- 


AT   THE  POLE   ITSELF.  311 

told  of  the  Fear  Not,  through  all  the  sunny  brightness  of  the 
Arctic  summer,  and  the  long  days  of  autumn. 

But  where  were  they  now? 

Well,  if  anything  in  this  world  was  calculated  to  give 
hope,  and  to  banish  gloom  and  ennui  right  away  to  the  Ant- 
arctic regions  themselves,  it  was  the  discovery  that  at  long, 
long  last  they  had  reached  the  Pole. 

The  days  were  already  beginning  to  get  shorter  and  colder, 
when  to  his  crew  one  day  Reynolds — pointing  shorewards 
to  where  rocks  and  hills  rose  high  against  the  pale  blue 
Arctic  sky — made  this  announcement. 

It  was  received  with  the  wildest  cheers,  cheers  in  which  the 
very  dogs  seemed  to,  nay,  did  take  part;  Caesar  leading  with 
his  trumpet  bay  until  the  very  rocks  re-echoed  back  the  sound. 

Next  day  was  a  never-to-be-forgotten  one.      With  the 
exception  of  Lakoff  and  Svolto  all  landed,  and  by  noon 
above  the  very  highest  mountain  floated  and  flew 
"The  royal  standard  of  Britain  the  great". 

Once  more  the  wildest  cheering  rent  the  air.  The  excite- 
ment, the  enthusiasm,  was  intense,  and  for  a  time  Reynolds 
stood  there,  his  left  arm  grasping  the  flagstaff,  attempting, 
but  all  in  vain,  to  address  his  men. 

For  many  minutes  there  was  no  chance  of  his  voice  being 
heard.  But  Joe's  stentorian  voice  was  raised  at  last. 

" Silence,  men!"  he  cried,  "  silence,  comrades  all!  Listen 
to  the  captain's  speech." 

The  men  obeyed,  and  all  eyes  were  turned  towards 
Reynolds.  Then  he  said: 

"  Men,  friends,  I  may  say  brothers,  you  look  to  me  for 
a  speech.  But  speech  I  have  none  to  give.  My  heart  is 
far  too  full  for  words,  and  any  attempt  at  eloquence  on  my 
part  would  end  in  failure.  I  should  break  down.  Yea, 
I  might  even  shed  tears,  though  they  would  be  tears  born 
of  joy  and  of  excitement.  I  and  you,  my  friends,  that 
cluster  round  me,  stand  here  the  representatives  of  the 
British  nation,  and  we  stand  beside  that  flag  on  which  the 
sun  never  sets — 

" '  The  flag  that  braved  a  thousand  years 
The  battle  and  the  breeze'. 


312         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"  I  thank  you,  men  and  brothers,  for  the  confidence  you 
have  ever  reposed  in  me,  and  my  schemes.  I  thank  you 
from  my  heart  and  soul  that  you  have  enabled  me  to  attain 
the  object  of  my  ambition.  Yes,  men,  I  thank  you;  but 
above  all  let  us  thank  the  God  above  us,  the  God  of  all 
ends  of  the  earth,  who  has  guided  us  safely  thus  far,  and 
who  is  able  to  take  us  in  safety  once  more  back  to  our 
native  land  if  we  but  ask  His  mercy." 

"Amen!     Amen!" 

And  every  head  was  bared,  every  eye  turned  upwards  to 
the  ethereal  blue  of  the  Arctic  sky. 

For  some  moments  the  silence  was  almost  dread.  It  was 
the  silence  of  space  itself;  a  silence  so  complete  one  might 
almost  hear  a  snow-flake  fall. 

It  was  broken  at  last  by  the  voice  of  Reynolds  himself. 

"Here  are  no  stones,"  he  said,  "but  let  us  heap  up  a 
cairn  of  ice  and  snow  around  our  flag.  The  flag  itself  may 
be,  and  will  be,  tattered  and  rent  by  winters'  storms,  in  time 
the  staff  itself  will  totter  and  fall;  but  our  cairn  will,  per- 
haps, remain  for  generations  to  show  the  pluck  and  per- 
severance of  Britannia's  sons." 

In  less  than  two  hours  the  cairn  was  raised,  and  raised 
above  a  box  containing  documents  descriptive  of  the  most 
remarkable  voyage  and  journey  ever  made  by  mortal  man. 

"  Now,"  cried  Reynolds,  "  one  cheer  more  and  then  for 
Britain's  hymn." 

Svolto  told  Sigurd  afterwards  that  in  the  stillness  of  the 
air,  not  only  could  he  hear  the  music,  but  the  very  words  of 
the  grand  old  anthem;  and  that  both  he  and  Lakoff  had 
uncovered  their  heads  and  stood  with  eyes  turned  hillvvards 
till  the  very  last  line  died  away  in  cadence — 

"  God  save  the  Queen  ". 


SAD  DEATH  OF  LORD  DAYBREAK.         313 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SAD   DEATH   OF  LORD   DAYBREAK — STRANGE   AND   FEARFUL 
ADVENTURES. 

MANY  months  have  gone  by  since  we  saw,  though  but 
with  the  mind's  eye,  the  grand  old  flag  of  our  own 
dear  native  land  floating  at  the  Pole. 

Weary  months  those  have  been,  months  of  sad  anxiety 
to  all  on  board  the  Fear  Not,  but  more  especially  to  the 
bold  leader  of  this  expedition.  Even  the  very  best  and 
cleverest  of  men,  it  must  be  remembered,  are  apt  to  make 
mistakes.  If  Reynolds  had  a  fault, — and  who  among  us  is 
there  that  has  not,  —  it  lay  in  his  being  somewhat  over- 
sanguine.  In  this  strange  venture  of  his — this  attempt  to 
cross  the  Pole  by  attaching  himself  to  a  floe  which  he  firmly 
believed  would  float  him  across — we  cannot  help  thinking 
that  he  left  a  little  too  much  to  chance;  and  now  that  a  re- 
verse— or,  as  poor  Joe,  his  sincerest  friend,  called  it,  a  hitch 
— had  come,  Reynolds  was  indeed  in  trouble. 

I  must  do  him  the  credit  of  saying  that  for  his  own  life 
he  cared  but  little.  It  was  no  fear  of  personal  death  that 
led  to  his  grief.  Could  he  have  saved  his  people,  could  he 
have  restored  them  to  their  own  country  safe  and  sound, 
with  the  gladsome  news  that  the  Pole  had  been  discovered, 
right  willingly  would  he  have  laid  him  down  by  yonder 
great  ice  hummock  and  died.  But  Fate  would  make  no 
such  compact  with  him.  He  had  trusted  to  chance;  he 
must  suffer  therefore,  and  with  him  all  his  crew  must  suffer. 

And  now,  let  us  see  wherein  these  sufferings  lay,  and  how 
and  when  they  began. 

In  a  few  weeks  time,  then,  the  Fear  Not  in  its  floe  har- 
bour had  drifted  away  from  the  island  on  which  the 
standard  had  been  raised.  But  what  seemed  strange  now 
to  Reynolds  and  others  was  the  fact  that  the  rate  of 
progress  southwards  was  not  so  great  as  it  had  formerly 


314         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

been.  Had  the  current  then  lost  its  power1?  No,  this  was 
not  so,  as  observation  after  observation  fully  proved. 

There  was  only  one  conclusion  to  arrive  at  therefore,  on 
this  point  all  were  agreed,  there  must  be  a  jam  some 
distance  farther  south.  A  force  resisting  the  pressure  of 
the  floating  floes,  resisting  the  endeavours  of  the  great  ice- 
field to  find  its  way  farther  south. 

Daybreak  and  Joe  and  Sigurd  gave  each  their  views  upon 
the  matter. 

Reynolds  listened  respectfully,  then  said: 

"There  must  be  an  exceedingly  large  island  directly 
south  of  us.  We  are  now  many  degrees  to  the  west  of  the 
meridian." 

"  Yes,"  said  Joe,  "  ten  degrees  at  least." 

"Well,  if  this  current  continued  to  flow  as  it  does,  and 
there  was  no  obstruction,  we  should  expect  it  to  bring  us 
straight  along  by  the  eastern  shores  of  Greenland,  and  we 
might  reach  open  water  some  distance  north  of  Iceland, 
between  that  island  and  Jan  Mayen." 

"When  I  went  myself,"  said  Lord  Daybreak,  "to  the 
nest  this  forenoon,  I  thought  I  could  perceive  mountains 
far  to  the  south." 

"Yes,"  said  Reynolds,  "so  did  I.  They  looked  like 
small  islands,  but  this  would  hardly  account  for  the  obstruc- 
tion. Sigurd,  what  is  your  opinion]" 

Sigurd  spoke  slowly,  as  he  usually  did,  and  the  gist  of 
his  reply  to  Reynolds,  couched  in  somewhat  better  English 
than  he  used,  was  as  follows: 

"My  opinion,  sir?  That  as  ages  roll  on  the  formation  of 
the  land  in  these  seas  is  getting  changed.  A  great  battle 
is  being  waged,  and  has  been  raging  for  countless  years 
'twixt  earth  and  sea.  Old  islands  are  being  gradually 
washed  away,  continents  are  becoming  islands,  and  islands 
are  eventually  reduced  to  mere  rocks  or  bluffs  so  small  as 
to  be  taken  sometimes  for  icebergs.  In  all  this  the  sea 
seems  to  have  the  best  of  it.  But,  sir,  the  land  is  not  lost. 
It  is  washed  away,  but  only  to  form  sand-banks,  that  will 
in  time  become  islands,  new  islands,  perhaps  even  new 
continents.  And,  gentlemen,  the  first  work  in  the  progress 


SAD  DEATH  OF  LORD  DAYBREAK.         315 

of  their  construction  is  the  formation  of  these  banks,  in 
which  the  water  is  shoal  and  over  which  heavy  ice  cannot 
float  but  is  bound  to  jam." 

"As  sure  as  I  live,  sir,"  cried  Joe,  "Seabird  has  it 
There  is  far  more  in  that  old  nut  of  his  than,  judging  only 
from  his  droll,  old  figure-head,  one  would  give  him  credit 
for." 

"  Joe,  my  friend,"  said  Eeynolds,  "  you  seem  inclined  to 
be  merry.  Well,  I  don't  want  to  damp  your  spirits;  but 
even  supposing  Sigurd  is  right,  and  that  our  floe-ice  is  being 
stopped  in  its  progress  by  shoal  water,  I  don't  quite  see 
that  such  knowledge  helps  us  out  of  our  difficulty.'' 

"I  quite  understand,  sir.     Well,  we  must  wait  and  see." 

They  did  wait.  They  waited  a  week,  with  only  this 
result:  they  discovered  that  the  floe  in  which  they  were 
enharboured  had  in  some  unaccountable  way  altered  its 
position  somewhat.  The  Fear  Nofs  bows  were  no  longer 
pointing  directly  south,  but  south  and  east.  The  current,  too, 
was  changed.  Was  it  about  to  sweep  round,  our  mariners 
wondered,  and  return  to  the  Pole?  This  was  a  question 
that  for  the  present  could  not  be  answered. 

Meanwhile,  the  days  had  by  this  time  got  very  short  in- 
deed. 

"Eeynolds,"  said  Lord  Daybreak  one  morning  at  break- 
fast, "I  do  not  think  it  would  be  a  bad  plan  to  go  on  a 
sledge- journey  now,  southwards  for  a  few  miles,  and  take 
soundings." 

"  That  is  a  good  idea,"  said  Reynolds,  "and  from  a  scientific 
point  of  view  it  will  be  profitable." 

"  Let  us  start  at  once.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  gentlemen," 
he  said,  looking  round  the  table,  "  I  feel  in  a  somewhat  de- 
pressed condition,  mentally,  to-day.  I  think  a  run  out  will 
do  me  good."  This  from  Lord  Daybreak. 

"  The  liver,  no  doubt,"  said  Rudland. 

"  I  think  not.  I  feel,  doctor,  as  if  some  dark  shape  were 
sitting  on  my  grave!" 

"  He,  he!"  laughed  Syme.     "  Your  grave  isn't  dug  yet." 

"Figuratively  speaking,"  said  Daybreak;  "no  sooner  is 
a  baby  born  than  death  hurries  away  to  dig  his  grave." 


316         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

Long  before  the  stars  had  set,  or  become  dimmed  before 
the  light  of  approaching  day,  the  sledges  were  harnessed, 
and  speeding  southwards  and  west  across  the  sea  of  ice. 

When  five  miles  had  been  accomplished  a  place  was 
reached  at  which  the  ice  was  light  and  low,  and  here  the 
first  tapping  was  made  and  a  sounding  taken. 

No  one  was  astonished  to  find  that  the  water  was  but 
eight  fathoms  deep.  At  another  place  still  farther  south,  it 
was  more  shallow  still.  Many  more  soundings  were  taken, 
and  it  wras  evident  that  they  were  standing  over  a  great 
bank,  and  that  this  it  must  be  which  caused  the  obstruction 
to  the  ice-floe. 

At  every  place  where  a  sounding  was  taken,  specimens  of 
the  deposit  at  the  bottom  were  secured,  so  that  before  all 
the  operations  were  completed,  the  short  autumn  day  had 
worn  to  a  close,  and  stars  were  out  and  shining. 

A  very  beautiful  display  of  aurora  brightened  and  short- 
ened the  long  and  somewhat  dreary  night  considerably. 

Every  one  was  up,  and  breakfast  was  got  ready  at  an 
early  hour. 

"Wake  Lord  Daybreak,"  said  Reynolds.  "He  would 
persist  in  sleeping  by  himself  last  night." 

Olaf  went  towards  the  sledge.  Lord  Daybreak's  bag  was 
cold  and  empty!  Nor  was  he  to  be  found  anywhere. 
Strangely  enough,  too,  Caesar  had  likewise  disappeared. 

With  feelings  that  may  well  be  imagined  our  Arctic 
heroes  now  waited  with  great  impatience  the  return  of 
dawn.  Then  the  trail  was  found.  Found  and  followed. 
Westward  it  went  first,  that  trail  of  dog  and  man,  then  in 
a  direct  line  north  and  east,  as  if  his  lordship  had  made  an 
attempt  to  reach  the  ship. 

On  and  on  they  followed  it  for  two  long  miles.  Mean- 
while the  sky  had  become  darkened,  and  snow  began  to 
fall,  but  not  enough  to  hide  the  trail. 

They  had  not  gone  very  much  farther  when  the  quick 
ears  of  Olaf  Ranna  detected  the  pitiful  and  mournful  howling 
of  poor  Caesar.  He  ran  forward,  disappearing  a  minute 
after  in  the  mist  of  the  snowfall.  When  his  companions 
came  up  with  him  at  last  they  found  him  standing  by  an 


STRANGE  AND   FEARFUL  ADVENTURES.  317 

ice-hole,  apparently  petrified  with  grief.  The  trail  went  no 
further. 

This  untimely  death  deepened  the  gloom  that  had  already 
begun  to  spread  over  the  ship,  and  that,  do  what  he  might, 
Reynolds  found  it  impossible  to  dispel. 

The  death  of  Lord  Daybreak  under  such  sad  circumstances 
seemed  but  the  beginning  of  the  end. 

Meanwhile,  the  sea  of  ice  went  slowly  floating  onwards, 
and  with  it  the  Fear  Not.  To  Reynolds'  great  joy  the 
course,  as  well  as  the  current,  had  again  changed,  and  the 
vessel's  head  was  now  pointed  south  as  before,  and  the  rate 
of  progress  was  about  four  miles  a  day.  Nothing  could  be 
much  more  satisfactory  than  this;  and  although  the  sun  had 
set  to  rise  not  again  for  many  a  long  and  dreary  month  to 
come,  Reynolds  felt  certain  in  his  own  mind,  and  he  assured 
his  messmates,  that  the  returning  spring  would  see  them 
very  far  south  indeed,  and  that  ere  next  summer  had  de- 
parted they  would  be  safe  and  sound  once  more  in  their  own 
native  land. 

At  sea,  however,  there  is  nothing  certain  save  the  unfore- 
seen. So  said  Nelson;  and  his  words  are  proved  by  the 
adventures  that  now  befell  the  Fear  Not  and  her  crew. 

The  first  of  these  adventures  was  a  very  strange  one.  For 
one  whole  month  the  ship  had  been  enveloped  in  total 
darkness.  Storm  after  storm  had  raged  across  the  polar  ice- 
fields. The  snow  was  so  blinding,  and  so  constant  in  its 
downfall,  that  the  vessel  was  almost  completely  covered. 
It  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  they  could  keep  clear 
a  passage  to  their  snow  palace  on  the  neighbouring  floe. 

Reynolds,  however,  encouraged  his  people  to  do  so,  and 
all  the  games  and  amusements  that  were  inaugurated  on  the 
previous  winter  were  once  again  carried  out,  though,  I  must 
add,  with  far  less  heart  and  spirit. 

But  exercise  meant  life.  Without  it  the  ennui  that  was 
gathering  over  the  ship's  crew,  like  an  awful  mental  cloud, 
might  increase  to  an  epidemic  of  monomania.  Indeed,  this 
ennui  has  ere  now  reached  the  stage  of  furious  madness. 

So  plays  and  concerts  were  got  up  and  given  thrice  every 


318         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

week,  though,  it  must  be  confessed,  the  master  hand  of  Day- 
break was  sadly  missed  at  the  piano. 

It  was  towards  the  end  of  that  long  month  of  total  dark- 
ness and  storm,  that  one  night  all  hands  were  awakened  by 
noises  in  the  ice  far  ahead  that  were  as  difficult  to  explain 
as  they  were  dreadful  to  listen  to.  At  the  same  time  the 
roar  as  of  some  terrible  explosion  was  heard  now  and  then 
close  at  hand,  and  more  than  once  this  was  accompanied  by 
a  slight  upheaval  of  the  floe  and  a  quivering  of  the  ship  from 
stem  to  stern. 

The  noises  ahead  increased  rather  then  diminished,  as 
hour  after  hour  went  past.  They  were  those  of  rending, 
crashing,  and  grinding,  mingled  with  the  usual  shrieking 
and  groaning  and  wild  wailing  never  absent  from  an  ice- 
crush  in  the  Arctic  seas.  But  not  even  Sigurd  himself  had 
ever  heard  sounds  so  appalling  as  those  which  were  now 
not  only  ahead,  but  on  both  sides  of  the  apparently  doomed 
ship. 

A  strange,  undefinable  kind  of  terror  took  possession  of 
the  crew,  which  the  intensity  of  the  darkness  outside,  and 
the  ever-falling  snow  did  not  tend  to  lessen.  The  wind,  too, 
had  arisen,  and  to  its  roaring  was  added  the  terrified  baying 
of  the  dogs,  which  all  the  arts  of  Lakoff  and  Svolto  could 
not  restrain. 

Meanwhile,  the  ice-dust  sifted  in  through  every  cranny  of 
the  canopy  tent,  and  latterly  it  was  impossible  for  anyone 
even  to  show  head  on  the  upper  deck  without  the  imminent 
danger  of  almost  instant  suffocation.  For,  as  explained  by 
Rudland  Syme  to  his  messmates,  the  breathing  of  this  ice- 
dust  causes  spasm  of  the  air-cells  and  tubuli  of  the  lungs 
stronger  than  that  of  asthma  itself. 

In  about  six  hours'  time  the  noises  ceased,  and  silence, 
save  for  the  moaning  of  the  wind,  once  more  reigned  all 
over  the  dismal  pack. 

But  the  snow  continued  to  fall. 

Every  time  has  an  end,  however,  even  the  saddest  and 
most  wearisome,  and  one  morning,  to  their  intense  joy  and 
satisfaction,  our  heroes  awoke  to  find  only  quiet  and  stillness 


STRANGE  AND   FEARFUL  ADVENTURES.  319 

all  around,  and  the  sea  of  ice  lit  up  with  a  glorious  flood  of 
moonlight  and  starshine. 

Sea  of  ice!  But  was  this  the  sea  of  ice?  If  so,  how 
strange  and  weird  the  change  that  had  been  wrought  upon 
it! 

As  quickly  as  the  slipperiness  of  the  ice-bound  rigging 
would  permit,  Reynolds  and  Olaf — Colin  would  not  dare — 
climbed  as  high  as  the  main-topgallant  cross-trees  and  gazed 
wonderingly  around  them. 

The  ship  was  in  a  fjord.  Yes,  this  was  evident.  She  had 
been  crushed  in  here  by  the  force  of  the  ice  pack.  About  a 
mile  ahead  was  the  shore — the  foot  of  a  glen,  perhaps,  for 
high  hills  rose,  towering  into  the  star-lit  sky  on  each  side  of 
it — yes,  that  was  the  shore,  but  such  a  shore!  It  looked 
like  the  ice-foot  of  some  mighty  glacier,  and  was  built  up  of 
the  debris  of  a  thousand  ice-floes  that  had  been  smashed 
into  boulders  and  piled  upon  the  land. 

"Slip  down  below,  Olaf,"  said  Reynolds;  "you're  lighter 
and  younger  than  I  am.  Tell  Sigurd  to  come  aloft." 

In  a  few  minutes  Sigurd  stood  by  his  captain's  side. 

"Well,  my  friend,  what  think  you  of  this?"  said  the 
captain.  "  Here  is  a  change  indeed." 

Sigurd  didn't  answer  just  for  a  moment.  He  gazed  on 
shore  at  that  terrible  ice  bank.  He  looked  to  the  right 
and  to  the  left  at  the  tall  and  beetling  cliffs. 

Then  Sigurd  did  what  I  daresay  a  good  many  sailors  have 
done  before  him  when  in  difficulty  of  any  sort.  He  took 
from  his  pocket  a  stick  of  tobacco  and  bit  a  huge  hunk  off  it. 

"Well,  Sigurd,  what  think  you  of  the  situation?" 

"  Well,  sir,  as  far  as  the  situation  goes,  it  is  a  permanent 
one." 

"You  think,  then,  the  ship  is  doomed?" 

"Think.  No,  I  don't  think,  sir.  It  needs  no  thought. 
Yes,  the  Fear  Not  is  a  lost  ship.  Look  you  here,  sir. 
Gaze  away  astern  there.  Are  there  ice-saws  big  enough  in 
all  the  world  to  hue  a  canal  through  a  pack  like  that. 
Could  all  the  gunpowder  we  have  on  board  ever  blast  those 
ice-rocks?  No,  sir,  no,  nor  all  the  nitro-glycerine  in  Europe, 
could  it  be  all  discharged  at  once." 


320         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"Meanwhile  the  current  goes  sweeping  on,"  said  Rey- 
nolds. "Sigurd,  we  must  reach  that  current  again,  and 
be  borne  along  once  more  southward  on  the  floes." 

"True,  sir,  true.  But  we'll  have  to  leave  the  ship  be- 
hind." 

Great  afflictions  swamp  little  minds;  they  but  strengthen 
the  souls  of  heroes.  Reynolds  rose  to  the  difficulties  of  his 
terrible  situation.  He  was  not  going  to  be  beaten,  and 
the  brief  speech  he  made  to  his  people  that  day  when  he 
gathered  them  together  on  the  quarter-deck,  was  the  boldest 
and  brightest  he  had  yet  given  voice  to. 

He  told  them  everything.  He  explained  to  them  the 
position  in  which  the  ice  crush  had  landed  them;  he 
admitted  that  the  ship  was  doomed;  that  when  spring 
returned,  they  must  leave  her.  They  must  take  to  the 
boats;  and  if  the  boats  must  be  abandoned,  then  they  must 
trust  as  far  as  possible  to  the  sledges,  and  if  the  worst 
comes  to  the  worst — 

He  stopped. 

"Yes — what  then,  sir1?"  cried  the  men. 

"  Why,"  he  shouted  in  reply,  "  we  will  navigate  an  ice- 
floe when  we  come  to  the  open  water,  and  that  shall  float 
us  safely  south  to  regions  where  we  are  bound  to  meet  with 
sealers  and  with  ships." 

"Hurrah!"  the  men  shouted  in  answer  to  this  brave 
speech.  Joe  sprang  up  to  the  top  of  the  skylight,  and 
waved  his  cap  aloft. 

"  Messmates  and  men,"  he  cried;  "  that  isn't  half  a  hurrah ! 
It  is  but  a  poor  half-hearted  attempt  at  cheering.  There  is 
fear  in  your  hearts,  and  it  is  a  superstitious  one;  fling  it  off, 
men.  Be  men  in  reality.  I  am  not  going  to  let  down  my 
heart.  I  have  a  little  sweetheart  far  away  in  bonnie  Scot- 
land, and  I  am  going  back  to  marry  her.  I  am  as  certain  of 
that  as  I  am  that  the  moon  is  shining  over  the  sea  of  ice. 
And  some  of  you  have  sweethearts,  and  nearly  all  have 
sisters  or  mothers.  For  their  sakes  let  us  be  brave.  For 
their  sakes  let  us  stick  together,  and  do  or  die.  Cheerily 
does  it,  lads.  Cheerily,  0 !  Now,  let  me  hear  a  slight  im- 


THE    "FEAR   NOT"   SEEMS   DOOMED.  321 

provement  on  your  last  feeble  and  school-boyish  hurrah. 
Shout,  boys,  shout!" 

And  shout  they  did,  and  it  was  a  shout  that  came  straight 
away  from  every  heart. 

" Bravo!"  cried  Donaldson.     "  A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that. 

"Now,  then,"  he  continued,  "I  feel  I  want  exercise. 
Ship  the  capstan-bars,  boys,  and  let  us  trot  around  and 
grind  a  little  more  electric  light." 

The  light,  I  may  mention,  had  been  ground  in  this  way 
since  ever  they  were  frozen  in. 

Right  merrily,  then,  the  capstan  went  round,  while  bold 
Donaldson  raised  high  his  song,  the  ringing  Russel-music 
kept  time  to  by  the  beating  of  the — 

"  Cheer,  boys,  cheer !     No  more  of  idle  sorrow, 
Courage,  true  hearts,  shall  bear  us  on  our  way ; 
Hope  flies  before  and  points  the  bright  to-morrow, 
Let  us  forget  the  dangers  of  to-day." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    "FEAR   NOT"   SEEMS   DOOMED. 

rpHE  cold  endured  by  our  Arctic  heroes  during  their 
L  imprisonment  that  winter  in  the  fjord  of  the  Isle  of 
Desolation — as  they  had  named  it — was  intense,  terrible ! 

The  temperature  one  never-to-be-forgotten  night  ran  down 
to  about  70°  below  zero  (Fahrenheit).  Such  cold  had  never 
before  been  experienced  even  by  Sigurd,  and  I  have  not  the 
slightest  doubt  that  had  it  continued  but  a  few  days  every 
one  on  board  would  have  succumbed  to  it. 

Up  till  twelve  o'clock  on  this  particular  night  no  one 
thought  of  turning  in.  Nor  could  anyone  in  the  saloon  sit 
for  any  length  of  time  in  his  seat.  They  found  it  best  to 
keep  moving,  to  walk  hack  and  fro,  to  stamp  on  the  deck 
like  soldiers  marking  time,  and  to  beat  their  hands  against 

(988)  X 


322         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

their  breasts.  It  was  almost  impossible  to  keep  the  fires 
alight  either  forward  or  aft. 

About  midnight  the  saloon  people  were  almost  worn  out 
with  their  exertions,  and  so  sleeping-bags  and  rugs  were 
brought  out,  and  they  prepared  to  huddle  down  all  together 
in  front  of  the  fire. 

Poor  Caesar  sat  shivering  and  whining  by  the  stove,  .posi- 
tively crying  with  the  cold,  and  a  pitiful  sight  to  see  till 
Olaf  made  him  a  bed  and  spread  over  him  an  eider-down 
quilt  that  had  belonged  to  poor  Lord  Daybreak.  And  Pussy, 
watching  her  chance,  crept  in  under  and  slept  in  his  arms. 

Svolto's  case  was  perhaps  the  worst.  Half-bred  Lapp 
though  he  was,  he  broke  completely  down.  He  was  crying 
like  a  child  when  Rudland  went  forward  to  see  some  cases 
of  frost-biting,  and  he  begged  and  prayed  of  the  doctor  to 
put  him  down  the  ice-hole. 

As  the  doctor  came  aft  again  he  had  a  look  in  at  the  dogs' 
kennels.  Only  nine  or  ten  were  now  alive  out  of  all  that 
had  been  brought  on  board.  These  were  huddled  together 
in  a  heap  for  warmth,  and  right  in  the  centre  of  them  lay 
Lakoff  himself. 

Luckily  for  all,  the  temperature  rose  next  day  fully  thirty 
degrees,  and  the  contrast  from  the  bitterness  of  the  previous 
night  was  very  marked  indeed. 

The  temperature  rose  then,  and  I  may  say  here  once  and 
for  all  that  it  did  not  fall  again  so  low  that  winter. 

It  was  one  evening  not  very  long  after  that  night  of  bitter 
cold,  that  all,  with  the  exception  of  Rudland  Syme,  were 
seated  at  dinner.  He  was  forward  among  his  sick,  for 
unfortunately  both  men  and  dogs  were  among  his  patients. 

"  Only  three  weeks  more  now,  Joe,  and  once  again  our 
eyes  shall  feast  upon  the  sunlight." 

"  Whoever  lives  to  see  it." 

The  voice  came  from  Jones;  but,  instead  of  being  in  his 
usual  happy  tones,  it  was  low,  and  almost  sepulchral,  little 
more,  indeed,  than  a  hoarse  whisper.  All  eyes  were  turned 
in  his  direction.  In  the  white  glare  of  the  electric  light  it 
is  true  that  everyone  looked  more  or  less  pale  and  some — 


THE    "FEAR   NOT"   SEEMS  DOOMED.  323 

Sigurd,  for  instance — almost  brassy  owing  to  the  long-lasting 
darkness  of  the  Arctic  night,  but  Jones  was  more  than  white 
or  yellow,  he  was  ghastly. 

The  conjunctivas  of  his  eyes,  instead  of  being  like  pearls, 
as  they  ought  to  be  in  health,  were  like  portions  of  a  blood- 
orange.  The  balls  themselves  protruded,  and  there  was  a 
dark  aureola  around  them. 

"Aren't  you  very  well?"  said  Olaf  kindly  as  he  placed  one 
hand  on  his  shoulder.  "Aren't  you  very  well,  Jones'?" 

Jones  turned  his  face  towards  Olaf  and  eyed  him  with 
a  stony  stare,  his  head  moving  upwards  and  downwards 
meanwhile,  though  he  seemed  to  try  to  keep  it  steady. 

At  that  moment  Rudland  himself  entered. 

"  Two  more  dogs  dead,  and  one  poor  man  cannot — 

He  stopped  short  as  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  Welsh  engineer. 

" Hullo!"  he  said.     "Why,  Jones,  my  boy,  you  have  got 
a  touch  of  the  trouble.     0,  only  a  very  slight  touch  "- 
Rudland  was  round  behind  Jones's  chair  by  this  time — "  a 
very  slight  touch,  else  I  wouldn't  tell  you.     Now  you  must 
lie  down  for  a  short  spell.     I'll  soon  put  you  to  rights. 

"  Here,  drink  this,"  he  continued.  The  doctor  had  mixed 
a  powder  in  some  water  and  handed  it  to  his  patient. 
"Swallow  it  down  at  one  bold  gulp." 

Jones  did  as  he  was  told,  and  replaced  the  glass  on  the 
table  with  a  kind  of  half-idiotic  laugh,  as  if  he  felt  bound 
to  consider  his  illness  as  no  end  of  a  good  joke. 

That  laugh  alarmed  his  friends  around  the  table  more 
even  than  did  the  look  of  his  ghastly  face.  He  was  got  to 
bed  as  soon  as  possible. 

"  I'll  send  a  man  to  nurse  him,"  said  Rudland. 

"No,"  said  Donaldson  behind  him,  "I  will  nurse  poor 
Jones.  He  is  my  mate,  my  pal." 

And  Rudland  said  no  more. 

"0,  run  forward,  sir!"  cried  Henry,  coming  quickly  in 
without  the  ceremony  of  knocking.  "  Run  forward,  doctor. 
Another  man  is  taken  ill!" 

The  doctor  was  off  at  once,  and  hardly  anyone  of  those 
left  behind  thought  much  of  dinner  that  day. 

Nobody   awaited    the   doctor's    return    more    anxiously 


324          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

than  did  Reynolds  himself.  What  was  this  strange  and 
awful  trouble  that  bid  fair  not  only  to  decimate  his  little 
crew,  but  apparently  to  annihilate  the  whole  expedition. 
What  was  it,  and  how  would  it  end  ?  These  were  questions 
that  none  could  answer.  Hardly  even  the  doctor  himself. 

And  here  he  comes  at  last.  Sigurd  and  Joe  were  pacing 
the  deck.  Colin,  Olaf,  and  Reynolds  himself  were  in  the 
saloon,  reading,  for  to-night  no  one  seemed  to  have  any 
heart  to  talk. 

"  Come  on,  doctor.  You  are  late,  and,  judging  from  your 
face,  your  tidings  are  not  over-pleasant." 

Looking  thoroughly  worn  and  weary,  Rudland  threw  him- 
self in  front  of  the  stove  beside  the  great  dog  Caesar.  He 
glanced  uneasily  first  towards  the  cabin  where  Jones  lay 
moaning,  and  motioned  to  Colin  to  close  the  door.  Colin 
did  so. 

"In  the  first  stages  of  this  strange  and  awful  disease," 
said  the  doctor  in  a  low  voice,  "the  hearing  is  super-acute; 
afterwards  the  patient  becomes  oblivious,  comatose." 

"And  the  men  forward,  doctor?" 

"  One  is  dead.  The  other  will  die  before  morning.  Ah, 
sir!"  he  added,  "it  is  better  they  should  not  suffer  long, 
better  for  themselves — better  for  those  left  behind." 

Reynolds  heaved  a  sigh;  he  was  deeply  grieved. 

"Is  there  nothing  to  be  done?" 

"  I  believe,"  answered  Rudland  Syme  with  some  degree 
of  naivete,  "I  believe,  sir,  I  am  doing  all  that  medical 
science  can  suggest." 

"My  good  fellow!"  cried  Reynolds,  grasping  his  surgeon's 
cold  hand,  "  I  know  that,  and  heaven  only  knows  what  we 
should  do  without  you.  But  what  I  meant  to  say  was  this, 
1  Is  there  nothing  that  I  can  do  ?  Can  I  make  any  whole- 
sale reform  in  the  ship1?'  Last  time,  you  know,  when  we 
were  threatened  by  this  black  death — if  that  is  what  you 
call  it — employment,  if  you  remember,  kept  the  minds  of  the 
men  active,  and  staved  away  the  dread  disorder." 

What  Rudland  said  next  he  seemed  to  say  to  the  fire 
rather  than  anyone  near  him. 

"It  is  the  result  of  the  intense  cold,  the  result  of  a  skin 


THE   DOCTOR   HAS   BAD   NEWS   TO  TELL. 


THE    "FEAR  NOT"   SEEMS   DOOMED.  325 

that  is  no  longer  able  to  do  its  duty  or  remove  effete  matter 
from  the  blood.  Ten  times  more  work  is  thus  thrown 
upon  the  liver;  there  is  congestion,  inflammation,  occlusion, 
utter  degeneration,  and  speedy  break-up,  uraemia,  and  blood- 
poisoning,  and  death." 

"Doctor,  doctor,  doctor!" 

Rudland  looked  up. 

Joe  and  Sigurd  had  just  come  in,  and  it  was  Joe  who 
had  spoken.  "0,  doctor,  don't  dose  us  with  physiology. 
Quinine  is  bitter  enough,  but  quinine  is  sugar  to  the  'ologies, 
one  and  all.  But,  sir,"  continued  Joe,  now  addressing 
Captain  Reynolds,  "I  heard  your  last  question,  sir.  You 
hinted  at  employment  as  a  preventative  to  the  plague." 

"Don't  say  plague,"  said  Colin.  "It  sounds  too  awful, 
Joe." 

"  Well,  the  trouble.  And  now,  sir,  in  my  opinion  exercise 
without  an  object  is  not  much  use.  One  likes  to  see  results. 
Hitting  a  log  with  the  back  of  the  axe  would  be  exercise 
after  a  fashion,  but  the  man  isn't  born  who  could  continue 
long  at  the  work.  He  wants  to  see  the  chips  fly." 

"  True,  Joe,"  said  Reynolds. 

"  Joe,"  said  Rudland,  "  making  you  a  sailor  has  spoiled  a 
good  doctor." 

"And  now,"  continued  the  mate,  "old  Sigurd  wants  a 
word  with  you,  sir." 

"Speak,  Sigurd.     Have  you  any  advice  to  offer1?" 

Sigurd  slowly  lit  his  pipe.     Then  he  spoke. 

"We'll  soon  have  the  sun  backf 

"  Yes,  my  friend." 

"  Then  spring  will  come,  and  at  any  time  we  may  have 
another  ice-crush,  another  squeeze!" 

"  That  is  probable." 

"These  nips  come  on,  sir,  with  awful  suddenness!" 

"Sometimes — yes,  often." 

"Mostly.  Now,  sir,  my  advice  is  this,  be  prepared.  If 
a  jam  comes  on  we  may  save  our  lives  by  making  a  mad 
rush  shorewards,  but  there  we  will  land  all  but  naked,  for 
to  save  stores  would  be  impossible." 

"  And  you  counsel  T' 


326         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"  I  counsel  the  making  of  a  camp  on  shore,  and  the  sooner 
we  begin  the  better." 

"  Captain  Reynolds,"  cried  Eudland  Syme,  starting  to  his 
feet,  "Sigurd  speaks  the  truth;  and  the  excitement  and 
exertion  of  camp  building  may  save  us  all.  You  see,  sir," 
he  continued,  placing  the  point  of  one  forefinger  against 
the  point  of  another,  as  if  to  emphasize  his  words,  "you 
see,  sir,  and  you  see,  men  all,  this  form  of  exercise  proposed 
by  Sigurd  will  excite  action  in  the  skin,  it  will  tend  to 
exhilarate  the  mind,  the  psychical  will  thus  once  more 
regain  its  equality  with  the  physical,  the  nerves  of 
organic — " 

A  friendly  arm  was  outstretched.  It  was  Joe's.  A 
friendly  hand  was  clapped  across  the  doctor's  mouth.  That, 
too,  was  Joe's,  and  Rudland  could  say  no  more. 

Reader  mine,  if  you  choose  to  think  back  you  will  re- 
member that  I  took  you  on  a  voyage  of  the  mind,  or  on  an 
aerial  journey,  straight  away  north  along  the  meridian  line 
till  we  crossed  the  Pole  itself,  and  flying  on  and  on  brought 
up  at  or  about  the  place  not  far  off  the  New  Siberian  Islands 
where  the  Fear  Not  took  to  the  ice.  It  was  a  very  quick 
and  very  easy  voyage,  because  you  might  have  taken  it  with 
your  toes  on  your  own  fender  all  the  time,  and  the  cat 
singing  on  the  footstool. 

Well,  I  want  now  to  take  you  another  journey,  only 
instead  of  this  being  a  journey  due  north,  it  is  a  flight  in 
quite  the  opposite  direction. 

We  leave,  then,  the  Fear  Not,  lying  under  the  stars  of  the 
Arctic  night,  plague-stricken,  at  the  Isle  of  Desolation,  all 
hands  plunged  in  grief,  yet  hope  still  burning  brightly  in 
each  heart.  We  leave  her  there,  and  southwards  and 
away  we  fly — south,  and  south,  and  south. 

With  one  leap  almost  we  leave  night  and  darkness  and 
welcome  the  glad  sun  that  is  brightly  shining,  on  a  morning 
early  in  April,  over  the  straths  and  vales  of  Iceland,  already 
showing  signs  of  reviving  after  their  long  winter's  sleep. 

But  now  we  strike  more  to  the  westward.  We  hardly 
touch  at  the  lone  Faroe  Isles.  Fain  would  we  rest  for  a 


327 

time  in  the  sea-girdled  peat-mosses  of  Shetland  and  Orkney, 
but  time  is  too  precious.  So  on  we  fly  southwards  still. 
And  here  we  are  at  last  at  Moira  House,  the  home  of 
Colin's  uncle,  Grant  M'lvor. 

Nothing  seems  changed  in  the  least,  although  it  is  going 
on  for  two  years  since  you  and  I  were  here.  More  than 
three  years,  do  you  say?  I  believe  you  are  right.  How 
time  does  fly,  to  be  sure! 

No,  nothing  seems  changed.  Yonder  are  the  grand  old 
hills,  the  snow  still  lingering  in  patches  near  to  the  summits 
of  some  of  the  highest,  and  there  it  will  lie  or  linger  all  the 
summer  through  till  winter  comes  again  and  hides  it  with 
a  fall  that  is  softer  and  whiter. 

But  spring  has  already  come  to  the  bonnie  glen.  The 
rooks  have  been  building  ever  so  long  ago,  and  a  pretty 
noise  they  are  making,  too,  high  up  in  the  swaying  trees;  a 
noise  that  quite  drowns  the  bickering  riot  the  sparrows 
make.  The  kestrel,  too,  has  a  nest  with  blood-red  eggs  in 
the  far  depths  of  the  pine  wood,  and  the  owls  and  magpies 
are  all  absorbed  in  family  cares.  There  are  blackbirds' 
nests  also  in  low  spruce  trees,  and  thrushes  in  the  larch, 
which  is  already  fringed  with  green  tassels  and  buds  of 
crimson. 

The  whole  forest  is  alive  with  bird-melody,  and  high 
above  the  green  earth  sings  the  fluttering  laverock. 

Grant  M'lvor  is  in  the  garden.  Elspet  is  bustling  about 
as  of  yore  indoors,  and  so,  too,  is  old  Murdoch,  while  Duncan 
and  his  faithful  collie  are  taking  the  sheep  to  the  hills. 

But  it  is  early  yet.  The  sun  has  not  long  risen  over  the 
south-eastern  hills,  while  a  pale  and  sickly  half-moon  is 
slowly  declining  in  the  west  and  north. 

Who  comes  yonder1?  The  laird  hurries  forward  to  meet 
a  bold,  brown-faced  sailor  man,  a  man  who  could  never 
look  anything  else  but  a  sailor  let  him  try  as  hard  as  ever 
he  could.  It  is  our  old  friend  Uncle  Tom,  alias  Captain 
Jones,  alias  Jolly  Captain  Junk. 

Hands  meet  and  are  heartily  shaken. 

"Well,  brother,  and  how  did  you  sleep?  And  how  is 
my  sister-in-law,  your  dear  little  wife?" 


328          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"  Slept  like  a  twopenny  top.  Wife  dressing,  and  will  be 
down  in  a  minute.  Come,  I  want  to  find  some  wallflower, 
because  I  know  she  likes  it." 

By  and  by  Mrs.  Captain  Jones  herself  enters  the  garden, 
smiling  and  happy. 

Why,  wonders  will  never  cease.  Mrs.  Captain  Jones, 
who  now  stands  before  us,  is  no  other  than  Miss  Dewar 
that  was  Miss  Dewar  of  Kilmorrack  House,  Union  Street, 
Aberdeen ! 

How  did  it  all  turn  out?  Well,  that  question  I  am  really 
not  prepared  to  answer.  Miss  Dewar  had  many  winning 
ways  of  her  own,  you  know,  and  Captain  Junk  was  a  sailor, 
a  warm-hearted  sailor.  Well,  Providence  somehow  arranged 
it  so  that  they  were  thrown  together  pretty  often,  and— 
and — well,  it  ended  in  Miss  Dewar  changing  her  name,  and 
that  is  all  I  know  about  this  matter. 

But  here  comes  Katie.  Why,  she  has  changed.  She  is 
now — 

"  A  sweet,  bonnie  maiden 
Of  bashful  fifteen." 

She  is  taller  and  prettier  now,  and  she  has  been  to  a  good 
school,  and  not  only  looks  a  little  lady,  but  talks  like  one. 

Soon  Mrs.  M'lvor  comes  down,  and  shortly  all  are  seated 
at  table,  while  Murdoch  and  a  neat-handed  Phyllis  go  bust- 
ling round  to  make  sure  that  all  are  served. 

Just  before  breakfast  M'lvor  and  Uncle  Tom,  as  I  still 
like  to  call  him,  opened  their  letters. 

"Yes,"  said  Tom,  "yes,  Grant,  I  find  that  Lord  Day- 
break's brother  is  still  determined  to  go  out  to  Franz  Josef 
Land  in  the  yacht  Aurora.  He  feels  certain,  he  says,  that 
the  Fear  Not  is  in  distress.  No,  I  cannot  tell  you  how  he 
arrives  at  this  conclusion.  He  says  he  has  had  strange 
dreams,  that  is  all,  and  that  might  mean  anything.  And — 

Uncle  Tom  paused,  and  glanced  across  the  table  at  his 
wife. 

"Don't  be  afraid  to  speak,  dear,"  says  Mrs.  Jones 
smiling. 

"I  am  to  go  out  as  commander." 


A   LONESOME  GRAVE.  329 

"Impossible!"  said  Mrs.  Jones;  "impossible,  dear.  You 
don't  know  the  sea  of  ice.  You  would  be  of  no  good  at 
all." 

"Well,  well,"  laughed  Uncle  Tom,  "my  post  would  be 
only  a  sinecure  after  all,  though  I  suppose  I'd  be  useful.  I 
really  think,  Grant,  that  Lord  Daybreak's  brother  only 
wants  me  for  company's  sake." 

"  And,"  said  Mrs.  Jones,  "  if  you  go  for  company  to  Sir 
William,  I  shall  go  to  keep  you  company.  And  I  shall  take 
with  me  my  dear  little  friend,  Katie,  here." 

"  0,"  cried  Katie,  her  eyes  dancing  with  delight,  "  that 
would  be  indeed  delicious!" 

"Nonsense,  sister!"  said  M'lvor.  "It  will  end  in  neither 
you  nor  brother  Jones  going." 

"  Well,  we'll  see,"  said  Uncle  Tom.  "  Only  Sir  William 
is  about  the  busiest  man  in  Aberdeen  at  this  very  moment, 
fitting  out  his  brother's  yacht  for  service  in  the  Arctic 
regions." 

"Man  proposes,  but  God  himself  disposes,"  said  M'lvor 
solemnly. 

"  His  will  be  done,"  added  Uncle  Tom. 

And  no  more  was  said  on  the  subject. 


CHAPTER  X 

A  LONESOME   GRAVE— SVOLTO'S   DOOM — THE  AWFUL   STORM 
— THE   BARQUE   GOES   DOWN. 

UNDER  the  starlight,  under  the  uncertain  light  of  the 
flickering  aurora,  bright  and  shimmering  for  one  hour, 
dazzling  the  next,  but  anon  dying  away  and  leaving  the 
stars  to  rule  the  Arctic  night,  our  heroes  worked  now  as 
few  men  probably  have  ever  worked  before  in  a  situation  so 
sad,  so  apparently  hopeless.  But,  at  all  cost,  at  all  risk, 
boats,  sledges,  and  stores  must  be  got  on  shore,  for  the 


330          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

impossibility  of  saving  the  ship  was  now  apparent  to 
everyone. 

It  seems  strange  that  the  idea  of  making  a  landing  on  the 
Isle  of  Desolation  had  not  occurred  to  Eeynolds  or  to  some 
of  the  others  as  well  as  to  Sigurd.  I  can  only  account  for 
this  in  one  way.  For  the  last  month  or  two  a  strange 
drowsiness  had  attacked  all  hands,  with  the  exception  of 
Svolto,  Lakoff,  and  Sigurd. 

Perhaps  to  say  that  this  drowsiness  "  attacked  "  them  is 
putting  it  somewhat  too  strongly.  Shall  we  say  that  it 
stole  over  them?  Be  this  as  it  may,  Dr.  Rudland  Syme, 
while  confessing  that  he  could  not  quite  explain  the  matter 
physiologically,  put  it  down  to  the  extreme  cold,  praying 
inwardly  that  it  might  not  be  the  first  symptoms  of  a  disease 
that  should  lay  all  hands  low  in  death. 

But  even  the  dogs  suffered  in  the  same  way.  They  awoke 
only  to  eat,  and  were  never  really  active  except  when  on 
deck  or  on  the  ice  at  exercise. 

For  men  and  officers  Rudland  prescribed  caffeine,  but  he 
had  more  hope  from  the  hard  work  they  had  now  com- 
menced than  from  any  medicine  whatever. 

The  first  visit  to  the  shore  was  one  made  for  the  purpose 
of  prospecting.  They  took  one  sledge  and  a  few  of  the 
dogs.  Though  it  was  scarcely  a  mile  as  the  crow  flies  to 
the  awful  embankment  of  ice  that  had  been  piled  up  along 
the  beach  at  the  top  of  the  wild  fjord,  it  took  them  three 
hours  to  make  this,  on  account  of  the  roughness  of  the  ice. 
But  during  this  time  they  succeeded  in  finding,  or  rather 
in  a  great  measure  fashioning,  a  pathway  shorewards.  This 
wound  in  and  out,  and  must  have  been  fully  two  miles  long 
altogether. 

They  were  lucky  enough  to  find  a  kind  of  icy  canon  at 
the  foot  of  the  glen  opening  on  to  the  field  of  floes,  and  up 
along  this  they  took  their  way.  Though  I  call  it  a  cailon, 
in  many  parts  it  was  so  narrow  as  to  be  but  a  mere  lane  or 
crevasse,  the  rock-like  ice  on  each  side  sometimes  overhang- 
ing it,  sometimes  almost  meeting  at  the  top,  while  in  several 
places  it  was  quite  bridged  over  with  banks  of  snow. 

It  brought  them  out  at  last,  however,  into  the  glen  itself, 


A  LONESOME   GRAVE.  331 

and  they  now  set  about  looking  for  a  sheltered  spot  at 
which  to  make  their  encampment.  This  they  were  not 
long  in  finding,  and  then,  being  thoroughly  tired  and 
hungry,  a  halt  was  called  for  rest  and  food.  After  this 
Reynolds  stood  up. 

,"  Come,  men,"  he  said. 

The  men  he  addressed  were  Joe,  Olaf,  and  Colin. 

Reynolds  led  the  way  a  little  farther  up  the  snow-clad 
glen  to  a  spot  where,  curiously  enough,  stood  a  tall  pyramidal 
rock.  It  was  almost  in  the  centre  of  a  dell,  and  seemed  a 
portion  left  by  glaciers  in  their  downward  sweep  towards 
the  sea. 

Reynolds  stopped  here.  He  looked  towards  Joe,  and 
Joe  nodded  an  affirmative  nod. 

He  took  off  his  coat  and  threw  it  on  the  snow,  then 
began  to  ply  busily  enough  a  spade  and  axe  he  had  brought 
with  him.  Whenever  he  seemed  tired,  Olaf  or  Colin  took  a 
spell.  So  hard  was  the  ice  that  the  work  kept  them  all 
warm  for  nearly  an  hour. 

"  Deep  enough,"  said  Reynolds  at  last. 

Joe  dragged  himself  slowly  to  bank,  and  stood  with  Colin 
and  Olaf  by  his  side  gazing  down  into — a  new-dug  grave. 

"Poor  Jones!"  said  Reynolds  with  a  sigh.  "He  will 
sleep  soundly  enough  there." 

"  It  will  be,  indeed,  a  lonesome  grave." 

Joe  said  nothing.     He  was  thinking. 

Their  next  visit  to  the  shore  took  place  on  the  day 
following.  With  the  exception  of  Svolto  and  the  doctor, 
all  the  crew  of  the  unfortunate  Fear  Not  attended  that 
strange  funeral.  The  coffin  was  borne  on  a  sledge,  and 
drawn  by  dogs.  It  was  covered  over  with  the  Union  Jack. 

Winding  in  and  out  among  the  floes  and  hummocks,  on 
and  on  went  the  procession,  no  word  being  spoken  by  any- 
one all  the  way.  As  they  entered  the  icy  canon  a  peculiarly 
brilliant  display  of  aurora  took  place,  and  this  continued 
long  after  poor  Jones'  body  was  laid  to  rest  beneath  the 
eternal  snows. 

Surely  a  more  impressive  funeral  never  took  place  in 
this  world.  I  am  not  striving  after  effect  when  I  tell 


332         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

you,  reader,  that  while  Reynolds  read  the  beautiful  service 
of  the  English  Church  there  was  not  a  dry  eye  around  that 
cold  and  glassy  grave. 

"  We  commit  his  body  to  the  ice,  his  spirit  to  the  God  who  gave  it." 
Then  the  mourners  went  slowly  back  to  their  ship. 

There  was  nothing  for  a  time  now  save  bustle  and  stir 
aboard  the  Fear  Not.  Indeed,  she  resembled  a  ship  pre- 
paring to  sail  for  a  foreign  land,  so  littered  were  her  decks 
with  bags  and  boxes.  And  to  and  from  the  shore  continu- 
ally passed  the  caravans  of  dogs  and  sledges. 

For  the  most  part,  Reynolds  himself,  with  Joe  and  Sigurd 
and  the  doctor,  remained  on  board.  They  had  plenty  to  do 
in  superintending  the  getting  up  of  the  stores  and  in  choos- 
ing what  they  should  take  with  them,  and  what  they  could 
afford  to  leave  behind.  All  this  entailed  a  considerable  deal 
of  thought  and  consideration.  But  at  long  last  everything 
was  landed,  and  all  was  finished  to  Reynolds'  entire 
satisfaction. 

The  season  had  now  so  far  advanced  that  there  was  a 
little  twilight  before  and  after  mid-day ;  and  one  morning,  as 
we  call  it,  a  long  streak  of  golden  cloud  was  hailed  with  joy. 
It  was  very  high  up  in  the  sky;  but  it  was  the  herald  of 
coming  day,  and  a  glad  ray  of  hope  shone  in  every  heart  as 
they  beheld  it.  Next  day, — 0  glorious  sight! — the  tops  of 
the  highest  mountains  were  tipped  with  roseate  hues,  with 
shadows  of  purple  and  violet. 

Nothing  would  content  Olaf  now  except  an  expedition 
next  day  high  up  one  of  the  hills  to  meet  the  sun.  Colin 
and  he  went  alone  with  the  two  dogs,  Caesar  and  Keltic.  It 
was  a  long  climb  and  a  difficult  one,  especially  for  the  dogs, 
but  they  sat  down  to  rest  at  last,  Olaf  holding  his  watch  in 
his  hand,  both  waiting  with  almost  feverish  impatience. 

There  were  clouds  athwart  the  horizon  when  they  sat 
down  —  purple  clouds  and  gray.  But  gradually  they 
changed  to  crimson  and  gold,  while  all  along  the  horizon 
westward  and  east  was  bathed  in  an  opal  mist,  and  all 


SVOLTO'S  DOOM.  333 

between  the  island  and  this  lay  the  wondrous  sea  of  ice 
which  was  almost  dazzling  in  its  brightness. 

The  golden  clouds  in  streaks  and  cumulus  changed  now 
almost  suddenly  into  the  brightest  silver,  and  then — the  sun 
uprose. 

"  Why,  Olaf,"  exclaimed  Colin,  "  what  a  sentimental  little 
chap  you  are ! " 

Olaf  was  crying. 

Three  hours  after  this  the  sky  was  overcast,  and  pitchy 
darkness  reigned  everywhere  around. 

Now  that  all  the  work  was  finished,  the  reaction  came, 
and  a  gloom  settled  down  on  the  hearts  of  all  on  board 
that  the  situation — and  this  was  sad  enough — was  scarcely 
sufficient  to  account  for. 

At  dinner  conversation  seemed  to  be  maintained  by  mere 
force  of  will,  but  after  that  meal,  when  all  settled  themselves 
around  the  stove,  it  flagged  entirely. 

Reynolds  was  sleeping  in  his  chair,  the  cat  on  his  knee  as 
usual.  Donaldson  and  Joe  sat  at  the  table  reading,  while 
Colin  and  Olaf  had  both  curled  up  and  were  fast  asleep, 
their  heads  pillowed  on  Caesar's  back.  It  must  have  been 
long  past  eleven  o'clock — near  to  midnight,  in  fact — yet 
no  one  seemed  inclined  to  stir. 

Hark!  What  a  strange  sound  that  is  which  suddenly 
breaks  in  upon  the  deep  stillness  of  the  Arctic  night! 
All  started  up,  wide  enough  awake  now.  They  listened, 
holding  their  breath,  and  soon  the  sound  was  repeated. 
Was  it  thunder!  It  must  be.  Yet  surely  the  strangest 
thunder  ever  listened  to.  Each  roll  appeared  an  explosion 
as  of  a  far  distant  mine  being  sprung,  and  this  was  followed 
by  low,  muttering  sounds  passing  far  to  east  and  west,  and 
even  towards  the  north.  But  the  explosions  themselves, 
that  grew  momentarily  louder  and  louder,  came  apparently 
from  over  the  southern  hills  of  the  Isle  of  Desolation. 

Was  it  thunder? 

The  question  was  asked  at  Sigurd  by  Reynolds  himself, 
as  he  stood  on  the  quarter-deck  with  his  people  around  him, 

fazing  out  upon  the  pitchy  darkness  beyond  the  tent.     But 
igurd  himself  appeared  puzzled. 


334         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

Meanwhile  the  lightning  began  to  play  incessantly  from 
the  clouds  that  enveloped  the  ice-clad  mountain  tops. 
Then  came  a  kind  of  lull,  and  the  silence  was  such  as 
probably  no  Arctic  voyager  had  ever  experienced  before. 
It  must  have  been  like  the  dread  silence  of  the  outer  dark- 
ness that  reigns  beyond  the  visible  universe.  In  this 
country  here  it  is  difficult,  indeed,  to  conceive  of  a  silence 
so  deep,  so  awful — no,  not  even  on  the  lone  mountains  of 
Scotland. 

Nature  seemed  holding  her  breath  and  listening,  even  as 
the  awe-struck  people  of  the  Fear  Not  stood  there  listening, 
waiting,  and  wondering  what  was  going  to  follow,  what  was 
going  to  happen  next. 

They  had  not  long  to  wait.  A  sheet  of  flame  spread 
athwart  the  sky,  quivering  in  a  thousand  forked  and  sword- 
like  tongues  among  the  hills  and  bergs  and  floes.  The 
crash  of  the  explosion  that  followed  was  ten  times  more 
terrible  than  any  they  had  yet  heard. 

And  now  crash  followed  crash,  peal  on  peal  reverberated 
from  every  side,  and  the  fire-flashes  descended  to  the 
surface  of  the  pack,  till  the  whole  looked  like  a  sea  of 
heaving  ice  and  fire.  Then  hail  fell,  and  snow,  the  lightning 
gleaming  red  through  it  with  an  effect  that  was  wondrously 
weird  and  awesome. 

For  a  whole  hour  this  curious  convulsion  of  nature  lasted, 
and  I  am  of  opinion,  even  unto  this  day,  that  it  was  partly 
of  volcanic  origin,  for,  before  now,  Reynolds  had  noticed 
that  every  visible  hill  had  the  appearance  of  an  extinct 
volcano. 

But  worse  than  this  storm  was  to  follow.  For  a  motion 
was  now  apparent  in  the  ice  pack,  though  it  began  very 
gradually.  A  motion  which  both  Reynolds  and  Sigurd 
knew  but  too  well  betokened  the  break-up  of  the  ice-floes 
around  them.  It  was  accompanied  by  all  the  noises,  the 
groaning,  the  shrieking,  and  the  grinding  usual  to  an  ice- 
crush.  Loud  reports,  too,  were  heard  here  and  there  around 
the  now  doomed  ship,  and  the  loudest  of  all  these  was  one 
that  seemed  close  alongside. 

The  sky  was  clear  by  this  time,  and  the  aurora  light  was 


THE   BARQUE   GOES  DOWN.  335 

very  brilliant.  In  its  strange,  uncanny  glimmer  our  heroes 
suddenly  saw  the  ice-palace  topple  and  fall  to  pieces. 

There  was  a  shout  now — "All  hands  on  deck!" 

"Save  the  dogs!     Save  the  dogs!"  cried  Lakoff. 

He  rushed  wildly  to  the  gangway  as  he  spoke,  but  was 
held  back  by  main  force. 

But  Svolto  had  rushed  forward  and  swung  himself  over 
the  bows.  For  a  time  he  was  seen  struggling  from  ice  boulder 
to  ice  boulder,  sometimes  tottering,  sometimes  falling,  but 
intent  only  on  reaching  the  snow  igloo  and  releasing  the 
dogs,  whose  mournful  and  frightened  howling  was  heard 
high  above  even  the  noises  of  the  rending  ice-pack. 

There  was  no  possibility  of  bringing  the  poor  lad  back  by 
force.  It  would  have  been  madness  to  follow  him.  He  is 
going  to  do  or  die !  He  will  save  the  dogs,  or  he  will  perish 
with  them. 

No  one  on  board  spoke,  but  hands  were  clasped,  prayers 
were  breathed,  and  eyes  were  strained  after  Svolto.  But 
the  weird  light  of  the  aurora  that  played  in  coloured  curtains 
around  his  head  but  served  to  light  the  poor  boy  to  his 
doom. 

That  doom  was  death.  He  had  reached  the  igloo.  He 
was  struggling  with  its  wooden  door,  when,  without  a 
moment's  warning,  the  great  floe  beyond  rose — then  fell, 
then  pressed  onward  slowly,  but  ah!  so  surely!  The  igloo 
and  the  ice  on  which  it  had  been  built  were  crushed  and 
crumbled  into  pieces. 

Svolto  was  seen  no  more.  A  cataract  of  water,  snow,  and 
ice  was  thrown  high  above  the  ship's  tent.  In  the  midst  of 
it  was  a  struggling  dog  or  two,  but  not  one  was  saved. 

The  floe  that  had  done  the  mischief  was  probably  the 
largest  in  the  pack.  It  was  now  close  alongside  the  ship, 
and  in  less  than  an  hour  all  hands  had  scaled  its  heights, 
and  for  a  time  were  safe  and  sound. 

Soon  after  this  the  unfortunate  ship  heeled  over.  Great 
and  grand  was  the  struggle  she  made  to  bear  up  against  the 
fearful  forces  opposed  to  her.  But  the  floe  on  which  she 
had  rested  crumbled  to  pieces  at  last.  Once  more  the  good 
ship  righted.  She  was  on  an  even  keel  in  the  water,  her 


336         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

masts  darkly  silhouetted  against  the  sheeny  star-lit  ice-cliffs. 
But  slowly,  slowly  she  sank  by  the  stern. 

The  floe  on  which  our  heroes  stood,  sadly  watching  her 
end,  receded,  leaving  for  a  minute  or  two  a  space  of  open 
water,  and  there  and  then  the  barque  went  down. 

The  last  portion  seen  of  her  was  the  jibboom,  raised 
darkling  against  the  snow  like  an  arm  mutely  appealing  for 
help. 


CHAPTER   XL 

DEATH   OF  LAKOFF  AND   CHAUSS — POOR   HENRY! — A 


THAT  was  a  night  of  terror  the  horrors  of  which  would 
never  be  forgotten. 

Death  seemed  inevitable.  The  motion  in  the  pack  was 
fearful;  all  ahead  was  a  sea-tossed  icy  chaos,  all  behind  the 
heaving,  swinging  giant  floes  rising  and  falling  like  waves 
of  the  ocean  betwixt  them  and  the  starlit  horizon. 

The  cold  was  intense  in  its  bitterness,  but  they  heeded  it 
not.  They  stood,  sat,  or  lay  there  huddled  together  waiting 
for  the  end  they  believed  could  not  now  be  far  away. 

The  floe  on  which  they  were  was  moving  slowly  shore- 
wards,  but  piece  after  piece  was  parting  from  it,  driving 
them  farther  and  farther  in  towards  the  centre,  till  at 
last  there  was  only  the  central  hummock  between  them  and 
death. 

Morning  broke  at  last,  or  twilight  came,  rather;  morning 
would  follow  very  shortly,  then  evening  in  an  hour.  So 
utterly  hopeless  and  forlorn  were  they,  that  no  one  for  a 
time  noticed  that  the  motion  in  the  pack  was  considerably 
less,  and  that  the  noises  had  almost  ceased. 

I  think  Reynolds  was  almost  asleep.  Had  he  dropped 
off  entirely  it  would  have  been  to — 

"  Sleep  the  sleep  that  knows  no  breaking 
Morn  of  toil,  nor  night  of  waking". 


DEATH  OF  LAKOFF  AND  CHAUSS.        337 

Sigurd  seized  him  by  the  shoulder,  and  shook  him  roughly. 
The  action  was  kindly  meant. 

Eeynolds  started  to  his  feet  in  an  instant.  He  was  him- 
self again  at  once.  He  smiled  and  nodded  to  Sigurd,  who 
was  pointing  shorewards.  Yes,  they  must  try  to  save 
themselves,  but  how  they  would  be  able  to  cross  that  sea  of 
ice-boulders  seemed  a  mystery. 

Soon  the  sun  rose,  and  the  attempt  must  be  made.  Now 
or  never !  Yes,  it  must  be  now  or  never.  But  one  other 
poor  fellow,  alas !  would  not  accompany  them.  That  was 
Lakoff. 

"Is  he  asleep?"  said  Colin,  approaching  the  spot  where 
he  lay,  his  pale  yellow  face  upturned  to  the  sky,  his  faithful 
dog  Chauss  with  his  paws  outspread  across  the  beloved 
master's  chest. 

He  is  very  still !  Colin  bends  down  and  touches  his  fore- 
head. He  is  dead!  And  dead,  too,  the  honest  dog  who 
lies  beside  him. 

Before  they  make  any  attempt  to  save  themselves,  they 
dig  a  grave  beside  the  hummock  with  a  piece  of  splintered 
wood,  and  in  this  they  place  both  dog  and  master.  Good 
friends  and  true  they  had  been  in  life;  in  death  they  are 
not  divided. 

This  world  is  not  a  very  happy  one  to  some  of  us,  yet 
we  all  want  to  live,  and  there  is  no  struggle  so  fierce,  so 
terrible  as  that  which  men  make  to  save  their  lives.  Herein 
lies  some  mystery  which  the  wisest  amongst  us  is  unable  to 
solve. 

I  do  not  know  quite  how  these  castaways  managed  it;  but 
by  bridging  over  the  ice-boulders  with  wood  and  spars  which 
they  found  near  to  them,  they  succeeded  after  almost  super- 
human exertions  in  at  long  last  reaching  the  shore. 

But  their  difficulties  were  not  even  yet  at  an  end,  for  they 
found  that  the  canon  or  wide  crevasse  that  led  upwards  to 
the  glen  where  their  camp  and  their  stores  were,  was  closed 
by  huge  masses  of  ice. 

This  was  a  terrible  discovery,  for  their  sufferings  from 
the  cold,  from  anxiety,  and  want  of  sleep  were  extreme, 

(988)  Y 


338         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

and  several  of  them  on  reaching  the  shore  had  thrown 
themselves  on  the  ice,  with  no  wish  apparently  but  to  sleep 
—and  to  sleep  was  to  die. 

The  most  active  among  the  crew  were  Olaf  and  Sigurd. 
They  went  off  together  along  the  ice-foot  prospecting,  while 
every  one  of  the  others,  Reynolds  excepted,  had  given  up 
all  hopes  of  being  saved.  Even  Colin  was  heartless.  So, 
too,  was  Joe. 

"In  all  probability,"  said  the  latter  mournfully,  "the 
crush  will  commence  again  to-night,  then  the  ice  will  curl 
up  and  bury  us  alive  or  dead." 

Meanwhile  Sigurd  and  Olaf  had  disappeared.  They  came 
again,  however,  and  soon,  too.  And,  0  joy!  they  brought 
with  them  some  food  and  rum.  If  ever  vinous  stimulant 
proved  a  blessing  it  did  so  now.  The  men  revived  under 
its  influence  and  that  of  the  food,  and  were  soon  hopeful 
and  ready  for  the  road  once  more. 

The  road,  so  unexpectedly  found  by  Sigurd,  was  indeed 
a  toilsome  and  dangerous  one,  leading,  as  it  did,  almost  per- 
pendicularly up  the  face  of  the  great  ice- foot.  But  they 
struggled  on,  the  bolder  and  stronger  amongst  them  lending 
a  helping  hand  to  the  weaker,  till  at  long  last  they  reached 
the  cliff  top,  just  as  the  sunset  glow  was  fading  away  on 
the  northern  horizon,  and  stars  were  beginning  to  peep  out 
in  the  south  and  east. 

Never,  surely,  did  sleeping-bags  feel  so  snug  before,  or  a 
camp  on  the  cold,  icy  ground  and  beneath  the  stars  so 
comfortable.  I  believe  that  everyone  hurried  through  with 
dinner  in  order  to  turn  in  for  the  sake  of  warmth  and 
repose. 

In  justice  to  my  Arctic  heroes,  however,  I  must  mention 
that  no  move  was  made  to  get  the  sleeping-bags  out,  until 
they  had  first  and  foremost  knelt  down  there  on  the  snow 
beside  their  silken  tent  and  returned  thanks  to  God  the 
Lord,  who  rules  on  earth  as  well  as  in  heaven  high,  for  the 
deliverance  from  a  terrible  death  they  had  just  experienced, 
a  deliverance  which  all  allowed  was  but  little  short  of 
miraculous. 

There  was  no  sentry  set  to-night,  and  no  need  of  one. 


A  TERRIBLE  JOURNEY.  339 

What  could  harm  them  in  this  great  white  and  silent  land? 
Nothing,  at  least  no  creature.  They  themselves  were  the 
only  living,  breathing  beings  here,  nor  had  they  anything  to 
dread  to-night  from  either  storm  or  tempest. 

How  soundly  they  slept,  therefore !  and  when  they  awoke 
at  last  it  was  to  find  that  the  gray  dawn  of  the  short  and 
wintry  day  was  already  beginning  to  appear  in  the  north- 
north-east. 

There  was  hope  in  every  heart,  there  was  joy  in  every 
eye.  Alas!  though,  that  joy  was  but  short-lived;  one  of 
their  number  was  missing.  Yes,  the  strange  ailment  which 
Rudland  Syme  called  mania  borealis,  had  claimed  another 
victim.  The  case  was  such  a  sad  one  that  the  reader  will 
excuse  me  if  I  dwell  but  a  very  short  time  on  it. 

Henry  the  steward,  then,  had  wandered  away  from  the 
camp — mad.  They  found  his  trail  just  as  they  had  found 
that  of  poor  Lord  Daybreak,  and,  like  his,  Henry's  also  led 
in  the  direction  of  the  ship.  The  direction  of  the  ship,  or 
the  place  where  the  ship  had  lain,  was,  of  course,  over  the 
face  of  the  cliff. 

At  the  ice-foot  they  found  the  poor  fellow's  mangled  body 
and  brought  it  to  bank.  They  dug  him  a  grave  near  to 
that  of  young  Jones  the  engineer.  There,  side  by  side, 
they  are  lying  now,  and  side  by  side  they  will  repose — 

"  Till  the  sea  gives  up  its  dead  ". 

Three  long  and  eventful  months  have  passed  away 
since  Henry's  death  and  burial  on  the  Isle  of  Desolation. 
Eventful,  I  well  may  say.  It  is  not  in  one  volume,  and 
scarce  in  two,  that  I  could  relate  all  that  befell  our  heroes 
in  this  time,  and  all  the  sad  sufferings  they  endured. 

But  let  me  briefly  mention  a  few  of  these,  and  give  a 
short  epitome  of  their  strange  adventures  and  wanderings. 

First  and  foremost,  then,  this  fact  was  speedily  recognized 
by  Reynolds,  namely,  that  if  the  remainder  of  his  people 
were  to  be  saved,  they  must  get  southwards  against  all 
hazards  and  without  delay.  Not  even  a  day  was  to  be  lost. 

The  Isle  of  Desolation  was  very  far  north  indeed.     As 


340          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

near  as  I  can  guess,  this  land  is  about  86°  N.  at  its  most 
northerly  point,  and  about  10°  west  longitude  at  its  eastern- 
most shore. 

It  was  almost  a  continent,  indeed.  But,  call  it  island  or 
call  it  continent,  it  matters  little  which,  only  Reynolds 
determined  to  cross  it.  Luckily,  the  surface  was  good,  so 
that  in  ten  days'  time  they  succeeded  in  reaching  the  sea 
of  ice  once  more. 

But  now  their  real  work  only  began.  Near  to  the 
southerly  shore  of  the  island  the  ice  was  fairly  good,  and 
the  progress  made  was  most  satisfactory.  They  found  it 
best,  however,  to  abandon  one  boat — they  had  landed  at 
the  island  with  two — and  even  this  was  considered  a 
terrible  drag;  but  necessary. 

So  thought,  and  so  said  everyone.  A  time  would  come, 
they  hoped,  when  they  should  arrive  at  open  ice  and  finally 
in  open  water,  and  then  this  boat  would  be  their  only 
hope. 

What  poor  blind  mortals  we  are!  On  reading  and 
studying  the  journal  of  Captain  Reynolds,  I  feel  convinced 
that,  but  for  an  accident  that  happened  during  their  slow 
progress  across  the  palseocrystic  ice,  the  remarkable  journey 
might  have  had  an  ending  that  is  all  too  terrible  even  to 
contemplate. 

They  had  been  travelling  across  a  floe-berg,  and  had 
reached  a  pack  of  even  rougher  though  smaller  ice  beyond, 
when  the  sky  suddenly  darkened  overhead.  Storms  far 
north  in  Arctic  seas  come  on  at  times  with  the  speed  and 
force  of  white  squalls  in  the  Indian  Ocean.  This  particular 
storm  was  fearful  while  it  lasted.  It  was  fearful  above,  the 
cold  was  intense,  the  snow  and  ice-dust  were  almost  suffo- 
cating, the  floes  all  in  motion,  and  a  noise  around  them 
that  made  talking  impossible. 

All  this  at  night,  too !  There  had  been  no  time  to  get 
up  the  tent,  so  they  huddled  all  together  and  waited. 

When  day  broke,  for  the  season  had  so  far  advanced  that 
night  was  very  short,  to  their  utmost  consternation  they 
discovered  that  their  only  boat  had  been  nipped  and 
crushed  and  sunk  amongst  the  ice-boulders.  With  it, 


A  TERRIBLE  JOURNEY.  341 

too,  had  gone  down  many  valuable  stores,  together  with 
Reynolds's  instruments  of  observation. 

The  grief  they  suffered  now  was  almost  paralysing  in  its 
effects  upon  their  spirits.  Eeynolds  was  the  first  to  recover. 

"Men,"  he  cried,  pointing  southwards,  "we  are  not 
going  to  be  beaten.  What  matters  a  paltry  boat?  Bah! 
lam  not  going  to  grieve.  When  the  pack  breaks  up  at 
last  and  these  floes  begin  to  separate,  any  single  one  of 
them  will  be  to  us  a  raft  on  which  we  can  float  south- 
wards into  safety." 

And  so,  with  greater  heart  than  ever,  the  journey  had 
been  renewed,  and  it  was  now  found  that  without  the  boat 
they  could  easily  double  their  daily  record. 

The  days  had  grown  longer  and  longer,  till  the  sun  rose  to 
set  no  more  for  many  months  to  come. 

Whatever  misgivings  Reynolds  had  as  to  the  result  of  this 
wondrously  forced  march  southwards  across  the  sea  of  ice 
he  kept  deep  buried  in  his  own  heart.  The  way  was  rough 
enough  at  times.  At  times  the  ice  was  apparently  all  but 
impassable.  Yet  the  ice  was  never  rough  enough,  appa- 
rently, to  daunt  our  brave  hero  Reynolds.  In  fact 
difficulties  appeared  only  to  make  him  all  the  more 
determined  to  struggle  on. 

But,  alas !  their  comforts  now  were  but  small.  Hitherto, 
in  all  their  wanderings,  they  always  looked  forward  to  a 
good  sleep  and  rest  at  night,  but  their  sleeping-bags  had 
by  this  time  got  sadly  worn,  and  admitted  both  the  frost 
and  the  drifting  snow. 

The  great  dog  Caesar  perhaps  showed  his  wisdom  in 
abandoning  any  such  nocturnal  shelter.  He  curled  up  in  a 
sledge,  with  no  covering  from  the  elements  except  his  shaggy 
coat,  and  poor  little  Keltic  invariably  slept  between  his  fore- 
paws  or  under  the  noble  Newfoundland's  tail,  when  it  was 
curled  round  across  his  chest.  Indeed,  one  would  have 
thought  that  the  dog  brought  round  that  monstrous  tail  for 
the  express  purpose  of  giving  his  little  friend  a  cosy  shelter 
from  the  cutting  wind  or  biting  frost. 

Luckily  for  our  heroes,  their  provisions  lasted,  and  these 
were  not  heavy  or  difficult  to  carry,  else  in  their  now 


342         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

weakened  condition  they  would  have  been  unable  to  drag 
them  over  the  ice. 

Medical  comforts,  too,  they  still  had,  and  of  these  Rudland 
Syme  was  not  sparing.  Why  should  he  be  ?  If  those  poor 
wanderers  were  to  be  saved  at  all,  those  medical  comforts 
would  last.  They  would  last  till  hope  itself  must  be  aban- 
doned and  death  be  their  only  friend. 

Their  shoes  were  at  last  almost  worn  out.  This  was  one 
of  the  greatest  trials  of  all.  To  cross  a  field  of  pack-ice, 
even  when  well-shod,  is  hard  work  enough  when  one  has 
days  and  days  of  it.  But  to  traverse  it  with  half-frozen, 
ulcerated,  and  bleeding  feet — ah  !  think  of  it,  reader. 

Their  clothes  were  also  in  tatters,  especially  at  the 
shoulders,  where  the  dragging-ropes  passed  over,  and  these 
were,  like  their  feet,  sorely  skinned  or  covered  with  blood- 
blisters,  from  which  excruciating  pains  sometimes  darted 
down  to  the  very  tips  of  their  swollen  and  tingling  fingers. 

There  came  a  day  when,  by  general  consent,  a  rest  was 
taken — a  rest,  indeed,  that  appeared  to  be  imperative.  No 
one  seemed  to  care  to  move  that  morning,  not  even  the  dogs, 
nor  poor  Pussy  Baudrons,  the  ship's  cat,  who,  strange  as  it 
may  seem  to  those  who  have  not  made  the  feline  race  a 
study  as  I  have  done,  had  stuck  not  only  to  the  expedition 
through  all  its  toils  and  dangers  and  difficulties,  but  indi- 
vidually to  Reynolds  himself,  her  affection  for  whom  was 
very  genuine  indeed. 

Nor  was  Reynolds  ashamed  to  confess  that  he  regarded 
Pussy  with  feelings  that  were  stronger  far  than  those  of 
friendship.  It  may  be  that  with  these  was  mingled  just  a 
slight  thread  of  superstition,  for  it  seems  to  me  superstition 
lingers  long  in  the  heart  of  your  true  British  sailor  just  as 
it  does  in  the  breast  of  the  sturdy  mountaineer. 

The  loss  of  his  scientific  instruments  had  been  a  very 
great  blow  indeed  to  brave  Captain  Reynolds.  He  still  had 
his  notes  and  journal,  but  at  the  present  moment  no  means 
of  determining  either  the  latitude  or  longitude  of  the  floe  on 
which  they  were  encamped. 

The  summer  was  far  advanced,  however;  that  much  he 


THE  END  OF  ALL.  343 

could  easily  guess,  and,  furthermore,  he  knew  that  the  ice 
on  which  they  were  floating  was  a  long  way  to  the  south- 
ward. For  fogs  were  by  no  means  uncommon,  and  dark 
and  dense  they  were  while  they  lasted.  Then  under  the 
heat  of  the  sun — if  heat  I  can  call  it — the  snow  had  begun 
to  soften. 

If  any  doubt  remained  in  the  mind  of  anyone  that  they 
were  well  to  the  south,  it  was  dispelled  that  day,  for  about 
twelve  o'clock,  as  near  as  they  could  judge,  a  heavy  swell  set 
in,  the  floes  rose  and  fell,  and  tossed  about  like  ships  in  a 
sea-way. 

But  there  were  not  the  usual  distracting  noises.  The  ice 
was  opening.  The  floes  were  being  detached  in  streams 
from  the  main  pack. 

In  twenty-four  hours'  time,  the  wind  meanwhile  having 
come  on  to  blow  strongly  from  the  north-west,  the  floe  on 
which  our  Arctic  heroes  rested  was  out  and  away  in  the 
open  ocean. 

Eeynolds  and  his  people  had  exerted  themselves  suffi- 
ciently to  raise  in  the  centre  of  the  floe  masts  which  they 
made  from  the  spars  they  had  carried  with  them  to  form 
bridges  on  which  to  cross  from  floe  to  floe.  On  these  masts 
they  hoisted  tarpaulin  sails,  and  I  think  that,  rough  and 
rude  though  they  were,  these  sails  aided  the  floe's  progress 
across  the  surface  of  the  sea. 

But  whither  were  they  being  taken?  Whither  wafted1? 
This  was  a  question  no  one  could  answer.  They  were  at 
the  mercy,  not  of  the  waves,  but  of  God  Himself. 


CHAPTEE  XII.      Bancroft  library 

THE     END     OF     ALL. 

FE  many  days,  perhaps  for  a  whole  week,  they  continued 
to  float  on  that  sea-swept  floe.     Their  sufferings  were 
acute,  their  plight  and  situation  the  most  miserable  that  can 
well  be  conceived.     No  one  now  took  any  heed  of  time. 


344          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

No  note  or  heed  of  time !  For  they  had  laid  them  down, 
one  might  say,  to  die.  Even  Reynolds  himself  had  lost  all 
heart,  all  hope.  His  only  wish  now  was  that  death  might 
come,  and  come  speedily,  to  end  their  long-drawn  misery  and 
wretchedness.  For  the  sledges  had  been  washed  off  the 
floe,  and  with  them  nearly  all  the  food  and  medical  comforts. 
Several  were  asleep.  Some  were  dead! 

In  such  dire  distress,  will  it  be  considered  out  of  place 
if  I  tell  you,  that  with  one  of  the  sledges  poor  little 
Keltic  had  been  rushed  into  the  sea,  and  had  doubtless  long 
ere  now  formed  a  bite  for  the  sharks,  and  that  after  this 
honest  Caesar  seemed  utterly  lost,  and  refused  his  share  in 
the  food  that  was  doled  out  to  all  alike? 

It  may  easily  be  believed  that  to  people  in  the  condition 
to  which  the  survivors  of  the  Fear  Not  had  been  reduced, 
sleep  was  the  best,  the  truest  friend.  As  long  as  possible 
they  had  taken  a  kind  of  exercise,  by  stumping  or  stamping 
on  the  floe. 

This  form  of  exercise  seemed  at  last  to  be  dangerous,  for 
piece  after  piece  had  separated  from  the  berg,  and  there  was 
no  saying  how  quickly  any  form  of  combined  movement 
might  cause  it  to  part  or  fall  into  boulders.  Not  that 
they  minded  death,  but  even  in  extremis  men  are  loth  to  do 
anything  that  seems  suicidally  to  invite  the  presence  of  the 
king  of  terrors. 

The  floe,  indeed,  was  already  perilously  small.  It  had 
fallen  asunder  more  than  once.  The  last  time  of  parting 
had  reduced  it  to  little  more  than  simply  a  floating 
hummock. 

Against  this  hummock  they  lay  huddled  together  for 
warmth.  Not  that  it  was  so  very  cold  now  when  the  sun 
shone.  But  his  warm  rays  were  very  frequently  obscured 
by  darksome  mists  or  fogs. 

The  beds  or  sleeping-bags,  though  sadly  tattered  and 
worn,  still  afforded  some  comfort  to  their  bleeding  feet  and 
their  pained  and  swollen  shoulders. 

When  they  spoke  at  all  it  was  in  low  voices,  almost  in 
whispers.  No  need  to  talk  loudly.  The  wind  had  quite 
gone  down,  and  there  was  not  a  sound  to  be  heard,  save  the 


THE   END   OF  ALL.  345 

lapping  of  the  wavelets  against  the  green  sides  of  the  berg 
on  which  they  floated. 

Every  now  and  then  Rudland  Syme,  Sigurd,  and  Olaf, 
who  were  the  least  weak  of  the  party,  pulled  themselves 
sufficiently  together  to  make  tea  or  coffee,  and  administer 
an  allowance  of  food  to  the  others. 

.  For  a  short  time  after  such  a  meal — if  meal  it  can  be 
called — nearly  all  revived  somewhat,  and  sat  up  a  little, 
leaning  on  their  elbows,  and  gazing  with  weary,  hot  eyes 
across  the  blue-black  ocean. 

Once  Colin  threw  carelessly  into  the  sea  a  salmon-tin, 
which  contained  a  little  of  the  fish.  Next  moment  the 
water  was  stirred  with  a  commotion,  that  to  weak  and 
nervous  men  was  startling  indeed.  Colin  recoiled  in  horror. 

Sharks!  Not  one,  but  several.  And  such  monsters! 
The  Scymnus  Borealis  is,  probably,  of  all  sharks  the  largest, 
often  growing  to  the  length  of  fifteen  feet.  And  he  is, 
perhaps,  the  fiercest. 

"They  have  come  for  our  bodies,"  hoarsely  whispered 
Joe. 

"No,"  said  Reynolds,  exerting  himself  to  speak;  "they 
have  come  for  the  dead  that  are  amongst  us.  But  0,  men, 
we  must  not  bury  our  messmates  thus." 

"  Sir,"  said  Sigurd,  "  I  do  not  want  to  give  you  hope,  or 
to  take  it  to  myself,  but  the  presence  of  those  sharks  here 
tells  me  that  we  are  not  far  off  a  pack  of  ice  where  men  have 
been,  or  still  may  be,  sealing." 

Sigurd's  words  made  a  greater  impression  than  any  tonic 
medicine  in  the  world  could  have  done.  Such  a  glorious 
thing  is  hope!  Yet  it  seemed  positively  cruel  in  the  ex- 
treme to  revive  this  feeling  in  their  hearts. 

It  was  carried  to  a  still  greater  extent,  however,  soon 
after  this.  Poor  Donaldson,  the  Scotch  engineer,  had  been 
several  times  delirious.  It  had  taken  the  united  strength 
of  Olaf,  Sigurd,  and  Joe  to  hold  him  on  the  floe.  But 
exhausted  nature  claimed  rest  at  last,  and  he  had  sunk  to 
sleep — to  wake  no  more  his  messmates  thought. 

But  now,  behold,  he  sits  half  up. 

"Watch  him!"  whispered  Rudland  anxiously. 


346         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

" Listen !"  Donaldson  said.     " Listen !" 

He  put  his  hand  behind  one  ear,  and  gazed  intently  south- 
wards as  he  spoke. 

"Don't  you  hear  them,  boys?  Now  they  are  silent  once 
more.  Ah !  men,  I  am  myself  now.  I  have  been  delirious, 
mad  almost.  But  these  sweet  voices  came  to  me  in  my 
dreams. 

"Listen!  listen!"  he  called  again.  "Men,  I  hear  them. 
Birds!  birds!  birds!  We  are  saved." 

Next  minute  far  away  in  the  fog  all  heard  the  voices  of 
the  sea-birds. 

"  Yes,  men,"  cried  Reynolds,  "  those  are  birds.  We  are 
near  to  help.  Thank  God ! " 

The  bird  voices  in  a  short  time  seemed  strangely  near. 
O,  how  these  poor  people  wished  and  prayed  that  the  dense, 
dark  fog  would  lift,  though  but  for  a  moment ! 

But  see,  what  is  that  in  the  air  just  above  them?  Sigurd 
— bold,  brave,  though  somewhat  superstitious — Sigurd  was 
the  first  to  see  it.  He  clutched  Reynolds  by  the  arm  and 
pointed  upwards. 

"The  hoid  maagel  The  hold  maagel"  he  cried.  "The 
ivory  gull  has  returned !  The  Father  has  not  forgotten  us ! " 

Then  the  poor  fellow  clapped  his  hands  to  his  face,  and 
as  he  shook  and  sobbed  the  salt,  salt  tears  came  welling 
through  between  his  horny  fingers. 

Yes,  the  snow-bird  had  returned. 

Only  a  blood-stained  floe!  But  it  was  the  first  in  an 
ice-pack,  and  all  were  blood-stained! 

As  the  little  berg  on  which  our  heroes  floated  rasped 
alongside  these  floes  the  joy  and  excitement  of  the  poor 
castaways  was  far  more  intense  than  can  be  described  in 
words.  Those  among  them  who  were  not  too  weak  to  rise 
started  to  their  feet,  although  some  tottered  and  fell  again. 
Those  unable  to  stand  knelt,  with  hands  and  faces  raised 
to  heaven— knelt,  and  wept,  and  prayed. 

Only  a  blood-stained  flo« ! 

"Cheer,  men!  Shout,  boys;  shout  if  you  canl  They 
may  hear  us,  and,  despite  the  fog,  come  to  our  relief.  For, 


THE  END   OF  ALL.  347 

see,  the  body  of  this  seal  is  still  warm,  and  here  is  one  that 
is  hardly  dead!  Eaise  your  voices  then.  One  and  all. 
Hip — hip — hip — Hurrah ! " 

Even  great  Csesar  joined  that  cheer.  His  trumpet-bay 
would  be  heard  for  miles. 

Listen !    It  is  the  sound  of  a  rifle  and  an  answering  cheer. 

Olaf  pulled  the  trigger  of  his  gun.  Again  they  shouted, 
and  from  out  of  the  fog  to  the  south  once  more  came  the 
reply. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  afterwards  they  could  hear  the 
clunk,  clunk  of  oars  in  rowlocks,  and  then  from  out  the 
darksome  mist  a  great  black  boat  came  looming,  a  dark 
figure,  club  in  hand,  standing  erect  in  its  bows. 

Saved!  and  the  rescuers  were  sailors  belonging  to  a 
Danish  barque. 

Only  just  in  time.  For  their  last  boat  was  leaving  the 
ice  when,  far  away  in  the  fog,  they  heard  our  heroes'  feeble 
cheer,  and  the  deep-mouthed  baying  of  the  noble  dog. 
Yes,  the  last  boat  had  been  leaving,  and  the  barque  herself 
was  heading  southward  and  about  to  bear  up  for  home. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  kindness  of  the  Danish  captain 
and  his  men  to  our  poor  fellows.  She  Was  but  a  rough  ship 
outside  and  in,  but  to  Eeynolds  and  his  people,  after  the 
terrible  sufferings  they  had  undergone,  she  was  indeed  a 
floating  palace. 

Only  a  rough,  red-faced  sailor  man  was  her  captain,  but 
to  the  castaways  he  appeared  to  be  indeed  a  saint. 

Perhaps  there  was  a  little  of  the  saint  about  Captain 
Jansen  after  all,  for  as  he  listened  that  day  to  Eeynolds  and 
our  other  heroes  as  they  told  their  pitiful  story,  more  than 
once  his  blue  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

While  they  were  yet  talking,  all  sitting  round  the  great 
stove  in  the  saloon,  or  chief  cabin,  the  patter  of  tiny  feet 
was  heard  on  the  deck  above,  something  came  bounding, 
scrambling,  tumbling  down  the  companion,  and  next  mo- 
ment, to  the  utter  astonishment  of  all,  who  should  leap 
right  across  Caesar's  back  and  into  Colin's  arms  but  Keltie 
himself. 


348          TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

"Risen  from  the  dead!"  exclaimed  Reynolds. 

"Olaf,  am  I  awake  or  dreaming?" — this  from  Colin. 

But  Caesar  sprang  up  whining  with  joy.  He  licked 
Keltie's  face,  he  licked  Colin's  hand,  he  licked  everybody's 
hand  all  round,  he  even  kissed  Pussy  Baudrons;  then 
nothing  would  satisfy  him  but  to  go  dashing  round  and 
round  the  table  by  way  of  allaying  his  feelings,  till  he  sunk 
at  last  almost  exhausted  near  the  stove. 

"Where  on  earth  did  the  doggie  come  from?"  cried  Joe. 

Captain  Jansen  laughed  right  heartily. 

"We  found  the  little  fellow,"  he  said,  "upon  the  ice 
dining  off  a  seal's  carcase,  and  barking  at  a  bear  that 
attempted  to  dispute  with  him  the  possession  of  his  dainty 
meal." 

"Well,  well,"  said  Reynolds,  "wonders  will  never 
cease!" 

But  there  were  more  wonders  yet  to  come. 

In  the  course  of  conversation  next  day,  Captain  Jansen 
mentioned  having  lately  met  a  yacht  that  answered  every 
description  of  poor  Lord  Daybreak's  Aurora. 

"It  was  blowing  a  bit  at  the  time,"  said  Jansen,  "but  we 
both  lay-to,  and  got  near  enough  to  talk  by  writing  words 
in  chalk  on  the  back  of  large  tea-trays."1 

"No,"  he  continued,  "I  could  not  make  the  name  out. 
But  this  great  yacht  had  been  north  as  far  as  Spitzbergen, 
and  she  had  been  crushed  in  the  ice.  She  was  bearing  up 
for  Iceland  to  make  good  her  damage,  and  must  be  lying 
at  this  moment  in  Reikjavik." 

"  If,  Captain  Reynolds,"  he  added,  "  if  it  will  do  you  any 
favour,  I  will  touch  at  Iceland  and  make  sure." 

Reynolds  grasped  his  host's  rough,  red  hand. 

"It  will  be  one  of  the  greatest  favours  that  now,  after 
saving  my  life,  you  can  confer  on  me,"  he  answered. 

The  Danish  barque  reached  Reikjavik,  the  Iceland 
capital,  safely  at  last. 

1  In  Greenland  ships  often  communicate  thus  with  each  other  when  the  wind  is 
too  high  to  let  a  human  voice  be  heard. 


THE   END   OF  ALL.  349 

Yes,  yonder  lay  the  Auroral 

But  I  must  leave  the  reader  to  imagine  the  meeting  on 
the  yacht's  beautiful  quarter-deck  of  our  heroes  with  their 
friends  and  relations  from  bonnie  Scotland. 

Was  it  a  joyful  meeting?  It  was  certainly  a  joyful 
reunion,  albeit  it  was  mingled  with  sorrow,  for  sad,  indeed, 
was  Sir  William's  heart  when  he  heard  of  the  death  of  his 
unfortunate  brother. 

Our  people  were  heartily  sorry  to  bid  good-bye  to  Jansen 
and  his  ship,  so  great  had  been  the  kindness  they  had 
received  at  his  hands.  However,  before  sailing  away  the 
Danish  captain  promised  that  he  would  most  assuredly  pay 
them  all  a  visit  at  Glen  Moira,  as  soon  as  his  ship  was 
cleared  and  his  men  paid  off. 

The  voyage  of  the  good  yacht  Aurora,  homeward-bound 
over  the  sunlit  sea,  was  indeed  a  happy  and  prosperous 
one.  Steam  was  never  up  all  the  way,  the  wind  was  fair, 
and  the  sky  blue  and  almost  cloudless.  What  more  could 
sailor-heart  desire? 

The  happiest  man  on  board  was  brave  Reynolds,  the 
Arctic  explorer. 

Or  was  it  Olaf  1  I  am  somewhat  doubtful  after  all,  for  to 
the  latter  as  he  walked  the  moonlit  quarter-deck  with 
pretty  little  Katie  Jackson  at  his  side,  life  for  the  time 
being,  at  all  events,  was  nothing  short  of  idyllic. 

Mrs.  Jones  was  quietly  happy  too.  And  our  old  friend, 
Captain  Junk,  was  simply  the  jolliest  of  the  jolly. 

Caesar  attached  himself  to  Colin.  Keltic  stuck  to  Olaf. 
But  Pussy  Baudrons,  the  ship's  cab,  scarcely  ever  left  the 
side  of  her  chosen  master — Captain  Reynolds. 

Just  a  few  words  more  and  then  down  the  curtain  drops 
on  this  drama  of  the  Icy  North. 

The  very  day,  then,  after  the  Aurora's  arrival  in  Aber- 
deen, all  our  heroes  started  for  Glen  Moira.  Olaf  s  mother 
was  there  to  greet  him.  Bonfires  blazed  on  every  hill,  and 
the  reception  our  heroes  met  with  at  Moira  House  was  a 
true  Highland  welcome. 


350         TO  GREENLAND  AND  THE  POLE. 

At  this  moment,  reader,  Eudland  Syme,  though  that  is 
not  his  name,  is  a  prosperous  physician  in  London.  Colin 
M'lvor  is  the  captain  of  the  Blue  Peter.  Olaf  has  married 
Katie.  Reynolds  is  meditating  a  great  expedition  to  the 
Antarctic  Pole.  And  Olaf  says  he  is  going  to  join  him  in 
the  venture — if  Katie  will  allow  him. 


THE  END. 


BLACKIE  &  SON'S  HOOKS  FOR   YOUNG   PEOPLE. 

BY    G.    A.    HENTY. 

"  Mr.  Heiity  is  one  of  the  best  of  story-tellers  for  young  people/'— Spectator. 


Through  the   Sikh   War:    A  Tale  of  the  Conquest  of  the 
Punjaub.     By  G.  A.  HENTY.     With  12  page  Illustrations  by  HAL 
HURST,  and  a  Map.    Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 
"The  picture  of  the  Punjaub  dui-ing  its  last  few  years  of  independence,  the 
description  of  the  battles  on  the  Sutlej,  and  the  portraiture  generally  of  native 
character,  seem  admirably  true.   ...   On  the  whole,  we  have  never  read  a  more 
vivid  and  faithful  narrative  of  military  adventure  in  India." — The  Academy. 

With  Wolfe  in  Canada:  Or,  The  Winning  of  a  Continent. 
By  G.  A.  HENTY.  With  12  page  Illustrations  by  GORDON  BROWNE. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"A  model  of  what  a  boys'  story-book  should  be.  Mr.  Henty  has  a  great  power 
of  infusing  into  the  dead  facts  of  history  new  life,  and  as  no  pains  are  spared  by 
him  to  ensure  accuracy  in  historic  details,  his  books  supply  useful  aids  to  study 
as  well  as  amusement." — School  Guardian. 

The   Dash  for  KhartOUm :  A  Tale  of  the  Nile  Expedition. 

By  G.  A.  HENTY.    With  10  page  Illustrations  by  J.  SCHONBERG  and 

J.  NASH,  and  4  Plans.    Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"  It  is  literally  true  that  the  narrative  never  flags  a  moment ;  for  the  incidents 

which  fall  to  be  recorded  after  the  dash  for  Khartoum  lias  been  made  and  failed 

are  quite  as  interesting  as  those  which  precede  it."— Academy. 

The  Lion  Of  St.  Mark :  A  Tale  of  Venice  in  the  Fourteenth 
Century.    By  G.  A.  HENTY.   With  10  page  Illustrations  by  GORDON 
BROWNE.     Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 
"  Every  boy  should  read  The  Lion  of  St.  Mark.     Mr.  Henty  has  never  produced 
any  story  more  delightful,  more  wholesome,  or  more  vivacious.     From  first  to 
last  it  will  be  read  with  keen  enjoyment."— The  Saturday  Review. 

By  England's  Aid:  The  Freeing  of  the  Netherlands  (1585- 
1604).    By  G.  A.  HENTY.    With  10  page  Illustrations  by  ALFRED 
PEARSE,  and  4  Maps.    Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 
"The  story  is  told  with  great  animation,  and  the  historical  material  is  most 

effectively  combined  with  a  most  excellent  plot."— Saturday  Review. 

With    Lee   in   Virginia:    A  Story  of  the  American  Civil 

War.     By  G.  A.  HENTY.     With  10  page  Illustrations  by  GORDON 

BROWNE,  and  6  Maps.     Crown  Svo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"  The  story  is  a  capital  one  and  full  of  variety,  and  presents  us  with  many 

picturesque  scenes  of  Southern  life.      Young  Wiugfleld,  who  is  conscientious, 

spirited,  and  '  hard  as  nails',  would  have  been  a  man  after  the  very  heart  of 

Stonewall  Jackson." — Times. 

By  Pike  and  Dyke:  A  Tale  of  the  Eise  of  the  Dutch  Re- 
public. By  G.  A.  HENTY.  With  10  page  Illustrations  by  MAYNABD 
BROWN,  and  4  Maps.  Crown  Svo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 
"The  mission  of  Ned  to  deliver  letters  from  William  the  Silent  to  his  adherents 

at  Brussels,  the  fight  of  the  Good  Venture  with  the  Spanish  man-of-war,  the  battle 

on  the  ice  at  Amsterdam,  the  siege  of  Haarlem,  are  all  told  with  a  vividness  and 

skill  which  are  worthy  of  Mr.  Henty  at  his  best."— Academy. 


BLACK1E  &   SON'S  BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE. 


BY    G.    A.    HENTY. 

"Surely  Mr.  Henty  should  understand  boys'  tastes  better  than  any  man  living." 

— The  Times. 


Meduced  Illustration  from  "St.  Bartholomew's  Eve". 

St.  Bartholomew's  Eve:  A  Tale  of  the  Huguenot  Wars. 
By  G.  A.  HENTY.  With  12  page  Illustrations  by  H.  J.  DRAPER, 
and  a  Map.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"A  really  noble  story,  which  adult  readers  will  find  to  the  full  as  satisfying  as 
the  boys.  Lucky  boys!  to  have  such  a  caterer  as  Mr.  G.  A.  Henty." — Black  and 
White. 

With  Clive  in  India:  Or,  The  Beginnings  of  an  Empire. 
By  G.  A.  HENTY.  With  12  page  Illustrations  by  GORDON  BROWNE. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"Among  writers  of  stories  of  adventure  for  boys  Mr.  Henty  stands  in  the  very 
first  rank.  Those  who  know  something  about  India  will  be  the  most  ready  to 
thank  Mr.  Henty  for  giving  them  this  instructive  volume  to  place  in  the  hands 
of  their  children." — Academy. 


BLACKIE  <fc  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE. 

BY    G.    A.    HENTY. 

"  Among  writers  of  stories  of  adventure  for  boys  Mr.  Henty  stands  in  the  very 
first  rank."— Academy. 


Under  Drake's  Flag":  A  Tale  of  the  Spanish  Main.  By 
G-.  A.  HENTY.  Illustrated  by  12  page  Pictures  by  GORDON  BROWNE. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"There  is  not  a  dull  chapter,  nor,  indeed,  a  dull  page  in  the  book;  but  the 
author  has  so  carefully  worked  up  his  subject  that  the  exciting  deeds  of  his 
heroes  are  never  incongruous  or  absurd."— Observer. 

Bonnie  Prince  Charlie :  A  Tale  of  Fontenoy  and  Culloden. 
By  G.  A.  HENTY.  With  12  page  Illustrations  by  GORDON  BROWNE. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"  Ronald,  the  hero,  is  very  like  the  hero  of  Quentin  Durward.  The  lad's 
journey  across  France  with  his  faithful  attendant  Malcolm,  and  his  hairbreadth 
escapes  from  the  machinations  of  his  father's  enemies,  make  up  as  good  a 
narrative  of  the  kind  as  we  have  ever  read.  For  freshness  of  treatment  and 
variety  of  incident,  Mr.  Henty  has  here  surpassed  himself."— Spectator. 

For  the  Temple :  A  Tale  of,  the  Fall  of  Jerusalem.  By 
G.  A.  HENTY.  With  10  page  Illustrations  by  S.  J.  SOLOMON,  and 
a  Coloured  Map.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"Mr.  Henty's  graphic  prose  pictures  of  the  hopeless  Jewish  resistance  to  Roman 
sway  adds  another  leaf  to  his  record  of  the  famous  wars  of  the  world.  The  book 
is  one  of  Mr.  Henty's  cleverest  efforts."— Graphic. 

True  tO  the  Old  Flag":  A  Tale  of  the  American  War  of 
Independence.  By  G.  A.  HENTY.  With  12  page  Illustrations  by 
GORDON  BROWNE.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"  Does  justice  to  the  pluck  and  determination  of  the  British  soldiers.  The  son 
of  an  American  loyalist,  who  remains  true  to  our  flag,  falls  among  the  hostile  red- 
skins in  that  very  Huron  country  which  has  been  endeared  to  us  by  the  exploits 
of  Hawkeye  and  Chingachgook." — The  Times. 

The  Lion  Of  the  North :  A  Tale  of  Gustavus  Adolphus  and 
the  Wars  of  Religion.  By  G.  A.  HENTY.  With  12  page  Pictures 
by  J.  SCHONBERG.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"A  praiseworthy  attempt  to  interest  British  youth  in  the  great  deeds  of  the 
Scotch  Brigade  in  the  wars  of  Gustavus  Adolphus.  Mackay,  Hepburn,  and  Munro 
live  again  in  Mr.  Henty's  pages,  as  those  deserve  to  live  whose  disciplined  bands 
formed  really  the  germ  of  the  modern  British  army." — Athenaeum. 

The   Young1   Carthaginian:   A  story  of  the  Times  of 

Hannibal.    By  G.  A.  HENTY.    With  12  page  Illustrations  by  C.  J. 
STANILAND,  R.I.     Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"  The  effect  of  an  interesting  story,  well  constructed  and  vividly  told,  is  en- 
hanced by  the  picturesque  quality  of  the  scenic  background.  From  first  to  last 
nothing  stays  the  interest  of  the  narrative.  It  bears  us  along  as  on  a  stream, 
whose  current  varies  in  direction,  but  never  loses  its  force." — Saturday  Rei:it>n\ 


BLACK  IE  ifc   SOX'S  BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE. 

BY   G.   A.   HENTY. 

'Mr.  Henty  is  the  king  of  story-tellers  for  boys. "— Sword  and  Trowel. 


Reduced  Illustration  from  Henty 's  "Redskin  and  Cow-boy*. 


Redskin  and  Cow-boy :  A  Tale  of  the  Western  Plains.  By 
G.  A.  HENTY.  With  12  page  Illustrations  by  ALFRED  PEARSE. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"  It  has  a  good  plot;  it  abounds  in  action;  the  scenes  are  equally  spirited  and 
realistic,  and  we  can  only  say  we  have  read  it  with  much  pleasure  from  first  to 
last.  The  pictures  of  life  on  a  cattle  ranche  are  most  graphically  painted,  as  are 
the  manners  of  the  reckless  but  jovial  cow-boys."— Times. 

In  Freedom's  Cause :  A  Story  of  Wallace  and  Bruce.  By 
G.  A.  HENTY.  With  12  page  Illustrations  by  GORDON  BROWNE. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"  Mr.  Henty  has  broken  new  ground  as  an  historical  novelist.  His  tale  of  the 
days  of  Wallace  and  Bruce  is  full  of  stirring  action,  and  will  commend  itself  to 
boys.  "—A  thenceuin. 


6  BLACK  IE  &  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR   VOITJ^G  PEOPLE. 

BY   G.   A.    HENTY. 

"  Mr.  Henty  is  one  of  our  most  successful  writers  of  historical  tales." — Scotsman. 


By  Right  Of  Conquest :  Or,  With  Cortez  in  Mexico.  By 
G.  A.  HENTY.  With  10  page  Illustrations  by  W.  S.  STAGEY,  and 
2  Maps.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"  By  Right  of  Conqtiest  is  the  nearest  approach  to  a  perfectly  successful  histori- 
cal  tale  that  Mr.  Henty  has  yet  published." — Academy. 

In  Greek  WatePS:  A  Story  of  the  Grecian  War  of  Inde- 
pendence (1821-1827).  By  G.  A.  HENTY.  With  12  page  Illus- 
trations by  W.  S.  STAGEY,  and  a  Map.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant, 
olivine 


"There  are  adventures  of  all  kinds  for  the  hero  and  his  friends,  whose  pluck 
and  ingenuity  in  extricating  themselves  from  awkward  fixes  tire  always  equal  to 
the  occasion.  It  is  an  excellent  story,  and  if  the  proportion  of  history  is  smaller 
than  usual,  the  whole  result  leaves  nothing  to  be  desired." — Journal  of  Education. 

Through  the  Fray:  A  Story  of  the  Luddite  Riots.  By 
G.  A.  HENTY.  With  12  page  Illustrations  by  H.  M.  PAGET.  Crown 
8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"Mr.  Henty  inspires  a  love  and  admiration  for  straightforwardness,  truth,  and 
courage.  This  is  one  of  the  best  of  the  many  good  books  Mr.  Henty  has  produced, 
and  deserves  to  be  classed  with  his  Facing  Death."— Standard. 

Captain  Bayley'S  Heir:  A  Tale  of  the  Gold  Fields  of  Cali- 
fornia. By  G.  A.  HENTY.  With  12  page  Illustrations  by  H.  M. 
PAGET.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"A  Westminster  boy  who  makes  his  way  in  the  world  by  hard  work,  good 
temper,  and  unfailing  courage.  The  descriptions  given  of  life  are  just  what  a 
healthy  intelligent  lad  should  delight  in."— St.  James's  Gazette. 

In  the   Heart  Of  the   Rockies:   A  Story  of  Adventure  in 

Colorado.     By  G.  A.  HENTY.     With  8  page  Illustrations  by  G.  C. 

HINDLEY.     Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

From  first  to  last  this  is  a  story  of  splendid  hazard.     The  hero,  Tom 

Wade,  goes  out  to  his  uncle  in  Colorado,  who  is  a  hunter  and  gold-digger. 

Going  in  quest  of  a  gold  mine  the  little  band  is  spied  by  Indians,  chased 

across  the  Bad  Lands,  and  overwhelmed  by  a  snow-storm  in  the  mountains, 

where  they  camp  all  winter.     They  build  two  canoes  and  paddle  down  the 

terrible  gorges  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  with  many  an  upset  on  the  \v;iy 

and  the  instant  danger  of  bloodthirsty  Indians  shooting  from  the  banks. 

After  many  perils  they  reach  Fort  Mojarve  and  safety,  and  the  reader 

finds  that  the  record  of  this  most  daring  journey  has  closed  all  too  soon. 

One  Of  the  28th :  A  Tale  of  Waterloo.     By  G.  A.  HENTY. 

With  8  page  Illustrations  by  W.  H.  OVEREND,  and  2  Maps.    Crown 

8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"  Written  with  Homeric  vigour  and  heroic  inspiration.  It  is  graphic,  pictur- 
esque, and  dramatically  effective  .  .  .  shows  us  Mr.  Henty  at  his  best  and 
brightest.  The  adventures  will  hold  a  boy  of  a  winter's  night  enthralled  as  he 
rushes  through  them  with  breathless  interest  'from  cover  to  cover '. "—Observer. 


BLACKIE  dfc  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE, 


BY    G.   A.    HENTY. 

"  No  more  interesting  boys'  books  are  written  than  Mr.  Henty's  stories."— 

Daily  Chronicle. 

The  Cat  Of  Bubastes:  A  Story  of  Ancient  Egypt.  By 
G.  A.  HENTY.  With  8  page  Illustrations  by  J.  R.  WEGUELIN. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"The  story,  from  the  critical  moment  of  the  killing  of  the  sacred  cat  to  the 
perilous  exodus  into  Asia  with  which  it  closes,  is  very  skilfully  constructed  and 
full  of  exciting  adventures.  It  is  admirably  illustrated."— Saturday  Review. 

MaOPi  and  Settler :  A  Story  of  the  New  Zealand  War.  By 
G.  A.  HENTY.  With  8  page  Illustrations  by  ALFRED  PEARSE,  and 
a  Map.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"It  is  a  book  which  all  young  people,  but  especially  boys,  will  read  with 
avidity." — Athenaeum. 

"  A  first-rate  .book  for  boys,  brimful  of  adventure,  of  humorous  and  interesting 
conversation,  and  of  vivid  pictures  of  colonial  life."— Schoolmaster. 

St.  George  for  England:  A  Tale  of  Cressy  and  Poitiers. 
By  G.  A.  HENTY.  With  8  full-page  Illustrations  by  GORDON 
BROWNE.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"  A  story  of  very  great  interest  for  boys.  In  his  own  forcible  style  the  author 
has  endeavoured  to  show  that  determination  and  enthusiasm  can  accomplish  mar- 
vellous results;  and  that  courage  is  generally  accompanied  by  magnanimity  and 
gentleness." — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

The  Bravest  Of  the  Brave:  With  Peterborough  in  Spain. 
By  G.  A.  HENTY.  With  8  full-page  Pictures  by  H.  M.  PAGET. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"Mr.  Henty  never  loses  sight  of  the  moral  purpose  of  his  work — to  enforce  the 
doctrine  of  courage  and  truth,  mercy  and  lovingkindness,  as  indispensable  to  the 
making  of  an  English  gentleman.  British  lads  will  read  The  Bravest  of  the 
Brave  with  pleasure  and  profit;  of  that  we  are  quite  sure."—  Daily  Telegraph. 

For  Name  and  Fame:  Or,  Through  Afghan  Passes.  By 
G.  A.  HENTY.  With  8  full-page  Illustrations  by  GORDON  BROWNE. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"Not  only  a  rousing  story,  replete  with  all  the  varied  forms  of  excitement  of  a 
campaign,  but,  what  is  still  more  useful,  an  account  of  a  territory  and  its  inhabi- 
tants which  must  for  a  long  time  possess  a  supreme  interest  for  Englishmen,  as 
being  the  key  to  our  Indian  Empire."—  Glasgoiv  Herald. 

A  JaCObite  Exile :  Being  the  Adventures  of  a  Young  English- 
man in  the  Service  of  Charles  XII.  of  Sweden.  By  G.  A.  HENTY. 
With  8  page  Illustrations  by  PAUL  HARDY,  and  a  Map.  Crown 
8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"  Incident  succeeds  incident,  and  adventure  is  piled  upon  adventure,  and  at  the 
end  the  reader,  be  he  boy  or  man,  will  have  experienced  breathless  enjoyment 
in  a  romantic  story  that  must  have  taught  him  much  at  its  close." — Army  and 
Navy  Gazette. 


DLACKIE  &  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE. 

BY  G.  A.  HENTY. 

"Ask  for  Henty,  and  see  that  you  get  him."— Punch. 


Condemned  as  a  Nihilist :  A  Story  of  Escape  from  Siberia. 
By  G.  A.  HENTY.  With  8  page  Illustrations  by  WALTER  PAGET. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"The  best  of  this  year's  Henty.  His  narrative  is  more  interesting  than  many 
of  the  tales  with  which  the  public  is  familiar,  of  escape  from  Siberia.  Despite 
their  superior  claim  to  authenticity  these  tales  are  without  doubt  no  less  fic- 
titious than  Mr.  Henty's,  and  he  beats  them  hollow  in  the  matter  of  sensations." 
— National  Observer. 

Orange  and  Green:  A  Tale  of  the  Boyne  and  Limerick. 
By  G.  A.  HENTY.  With  8  full -page  Illustrations  by  GORDON 
BROWNE.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"The  narrative  is  free  from  the  vice  of  prejudice,  and  ripples  with  life  as 
vivacious  as  if  what  is  being  described  were  really  passing  before  the  eye.  .  .  . 
Should  be  in  the  hands  of  every  young  student  of  Irish  history."— Belfast  News. 

Held  Fast  for  England:  A  Tale  of  the  Siege  of  Gibraltar. 
By  G.  A.  HENTY.  With  8  page  Illustrations  by  GORDON  BROWNE. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"Among  them  we  would  place  first  in  interest  and  wholesome  educational 
value  the  story  of  the  siege  of  Gibraltar.  .  .  .  There  is  110  cessation  of  exciting 
incident  throughout  the  story."— Athenceuiit. 

In  the  Reign  Of  Terror :  The  Adventures  of  a  Westminster 
Boy.  By  G.  A.  HENTY.  With  8  full -page  Illustrations  by  J. 
SCHONBERG.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"  Harry  Sandwith,  the  Westminster  boy,  may  fairly  be  said  to  beat  Mr.  Henty's 
record.  His  adventures  will  delight  boys  by  the  audacity  and  peril  they  depict. 
The  story  is  one  of  Mr.  Henty's  best." — Saturday  Review. 

By  Sheer    PlUCk:   A  Tale  of  the  Ashauti  War.     By  G.  A. 

HENTY.     With  8  full-page  Pictures  by  GORDON  BROWNE.     Crown 

8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"Morally,  the  book  is  everything  that  could  be  desired,  setting  before  the  boys 
a  bright  and  bracing  ideal  of  the  English  gentleman." — Christian  Leader. 

The  Dragon  and  the  Raven:  Or,  The  Days  of  King 

Alfred.     By  G.  A.  HENTY.     With  8  page  Illustrations  by  C.  J. 

ST  ANIL  AND,  R.I.     Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 
"A  story  that  may  justly  be  styled  remarkable.     Boys,  in  reading  it,  will  be 
surprised  to  find  how  Alfred  persevered,  through  years  of  bloodshed  and  times 
of  peace,  to  rescue  his  people  from  the  thraldom  of  the  Danes.     We  hope  the 
book  will  soon  be  widely  known  in  all  our  schools."— Schoolmaster. 

A    Final    Reckoning:     A   Tale  of   Bush  Life  in  Australia. 

By  G.  A.  HENTY.     With  8  page  Illustrations  by  W.  B.  WOLLEN. 

Crown  Svo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"  All  boys  will  read  this  story  with  eager  and  unflagging  interest.  The  episodes 
are  in  Mr.  Henty's  very  best  vein— graphic,  exciting,  realistic;  and,  as  in  all  Mr. 
Henty's  books,  the  tendency  is  to  the  formation  of  an  honourable,  manly,  and 
•even  heroic  character." — Birmingham  Post. 


BLACKLE  Js  SOX'S  HOOKS  FOR   VOUA'G  PEOPLE. 


BY   G.    A.    HENTY. 

'Mr.  Henty's  books  are  always  alive  with  moving  incident."— Review  of  Reviews. 


Facing"  Death :  Or,  The  Hero  of  the  Vaugban  Pit.  A  Tale  of 
the  Coal  Mines.  By 
G.  A.  HENTY.  With 
8  page  Pictures  by 
GORDON  BROWNE. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth 
elegant,  olivine  edges, 
5s. 

"  If  any  father,  godfather, 
clergyman,  or  schoolmaster  is 
on  the  look-out  for  a  good 
book  to  give  as  a  present  to  a 
boy  who  is  worth  his  salt,  this 
is  the  book  we  would  recom- 
mend. " — Standard. 

A  Chapter  of  Ad- 
ventures :      Or, 

Through  the  Bom- 
bardment of  Alex- 
andria. By  G.  A. 
HENTY.  With  6  page 
Illustrations  by  W. 
H.  OVEREND.  Crown 
8  vo,  cloth  elegant, 
3s.  6d. 

"Jack  Robsou  and  his  two 
companions  have  their  fill  of 
excitement,  and  their  chapter 
of  adventures  is  so  brisk  and 
entertaining  we  could  have 
wished  it  longer  than  it  is." — 
Saturday  lieoiew. 

TWO  Thousand  Years  Ag*0:  Or,The  Adventures  of  a  Roman 
Boy.  By  Professor  A.  J.  CHURCH.  With  12  page  Illustrations  by 
ADRIEN  MARIE.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"Adventures  well  worth  the  telling.  The  book  is  extremely  entertaining  as 
well  as  useful,  and  there  is  a  wonderful  freshness  in  the  Roman  scenes  and 
characters." — The  Times. 


Reduced  Illustration  from  "  The  Clever 
Mus*  Follett " 


The  Clever  MiSS  Follett.  By  J.  K.  H.  DENNY.  With 
12  page  Illustrations  by  GERTRUDE  D.  HAMMOND.  Crown  8vo, 
cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"Just  the  book  to  give  to  girls,  who  will  delight  both  in  the  letterpress  and 
the  illustrations.     Miss  Hammond  has  never  done  better  work."— Review  of 


10  BLACKIE  Ji  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE. 


BY    ROSA    MULHOLLAND. 


Banshee  Castle.  By  EOSA  MULHOLLAND.  With  12  page 
Illustrations  by  JOHN  H.  BACON.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant, 
olivine  edges,  6s. 

This  story  deals  with  the  adventures  of  three  girls  who,  with  an  old 
governess,  migrate  from  Kensington  to  the  West  of  Ireland.  Belonging 
as  they  do  to  "the  ould  family"  at  the  castle,  the  three  girls  are  made 
heartily  welcome  in  the  cabins  of  the  peasantry,  where  they  learn  many 
weird  and  curious  tales  from  the  folk-lore  of  the  district.  There  is  also 
an  interesting  plot  running  through  the  narrative,  but  it  is  by  reason  of 
its  happy  mingling  of  Irish  humour  and  pathos  that  this  story  holds  the 
reader  charmed  to  the  end. 

Giannetta :  A  Girl's  Story  of  Herself.  By  ROSA  MULHOLLAND. 
With  8  page  Illustrations  by  LOCKHART  BOGLE.  Crown  8vo,  cloth 
elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"  Giannetta  is  a  true  heroine — warm-hearted,  self-sacrificing,  and,  as  all  good 
women  nowadays  are,  largely  touched  with  the  enthusiasm  of  humanity.  One 
of  the  most  attractive  gift-books  of  the  season."— The  Academy. 


A  Fair  Claimant:  Being  a  Story  for  Girls.  By  FRANCES 
ARMSTRONG.  With  8  page  Illustrations  by  GERTRUDE  D.  HAMMOND. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"  As  a  gift-book  for  big  girls  it  is  among  the  best  new  books  of  the  kind.     The 
story  is  interesting  and  natural,  from  first  to  last." — Westminster  Gazette. 


The  Heiress  Of  Courtleroy.  By  ANNE  BEALE.  With  8 
page  Illustrations  by  T.  C.  H.  CASTLE.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant, 
olivine  edges,  5s. 

"We  can  speak  highly  of  the  grace  with  which  Miss  Beale  relates  how  the 
young  'Heiress  of  Courtleroy'  had  such  good  influence  over  her  uncle  as  to  win 
him  from  his  intensely  selfish  ways."— Giiardian. 


The  White  Conquerors  of  Mexico:  A  Tale  of  Toitec  ami 

Aztec.     By  KIRK  MUNROE.     With  8  page  Illustrations  by  W.  S. 
STACEY.     Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"Mr.  Mtinroe  gives  most  vivid  pictures  of  the  religious  and  civil  polity  of  the 
Aztecs,  and  of  everyday  life,  as  he  imagines  it,  in  the  streets  and  market-places 
of  the  magnificent  capital  of  Montezuma." — The  Times. 


Highways  and  High  Seas :  Cyril  Barley's  Adventures  on 
both.  By  F.  FRANKFORT  MOORE.  With  8  page  Illustrations  by 
ALFRED  PEARSE.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"This  is  one  of  the  best  stories  Mr.  Moore  has  written,  perhaps  the  very  best. 
The  exciting  adventures  are  sure  to  attract  boys." -Spectator. 


BLACK  IE  ct  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE. 


11 


BY   GEORGE    MAC  DONALD. 


A     Rough    Shaking1.       By   GEORGE    MAC  DONALD.     With 

12  page  Illustrations  by  W.  PARKINSON.    Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant, 
olivine  edges,  6s. 

"One  of  the  very  best 
books  for  boys  that  has  been 
written.  It  is  full  of  mate- 
rial peculiarly  well  adapted 
for  the  young,  containing 
in  a  marked  degree  the 
elements  of  all  that  is  neces- 
sary to  make  up  a  perfect 
boys'  book."  —  Teachers'  Aid. 


At  the  Back  of 
the  North 
Wind.  By  GEO. 

MAC  DONALD.  With 
75  Illustrations  by 
ARTHUR  HUGHES. 
Crown  8  vo,  cloth  ele- 
gant, olivine  edges, 
5s. 

"The  story  is  thoroughly 
original,  full  of  fancy  and 
pathos.  .  .  .  We  stand 
with  one  foot  in  fairyland 
and  one  on  common  earth." 
—  The  Times. 

Ranald  Banner- 
man's  Boy- 
hood. By  GEO. 

MAC  DONALD.  With 
36  Illustrations  by 
ARTHUR  HUGHES.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"The  sympathy  with  boy-nature  in  Ranald  Bannennan's  Boyhood  is  perfect. 
It  is  a  beautiful  picture  of  childhood,  teaching  by  its  impressions  and  suggestions 
all  noble  things."  —  British  Quarterly  Review. 

The  Princess  and  the  Goblin.     By  GEORGE  MAC  DONALD. 
With  32  Illustrations.     Crown  8vo,  cloth  extra,  3s.  6d. 

"Little  of  what  is  written  for  children  has  the  lightness  of  touch  and  play  of 
fancy  which  are  characteristic  of  George  Mac  Donald's  fairy  tales.  Mr.  Arthur 
Hughes's  illustrations  are  all  that  illustrations  should  be."—  Manchester  Guardian. 

The    Princess  and   Curdle.       By  GEORGE    MAC  DONALD. 

With  8  page  Illustrations.     Crown  8vo,  cloth  extra,  3s.  6(7. 
"There  is  the  finest  and  rarest  genius  in  this  brilliant  story.     Upgrown  people 
would  do  wisely  occasionally  to  lay  aside  their  newspapers  and  magazines  to 
spend  an  hour  with  Curdle  and  the  Princess.  "—-Sheffield  Independent. 


Reduced  Illustration  from  "A  Rough  Shaking". 


12  BLACK1E  ct-  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE. 


BY   HARRY   COLLINGWOOD. 


The  Pirate  Island:  A  Story  of  the  South  Pacific.  By 
HARRY  COLLINGWOOD.  With  8  page  Pictures  by  C.  J.  STANILAND 
and  J.  R.  WELLS.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"A  capital  story  of  the  sea;  indeed  in  our  opinion  the  author  is  superior  in  some 
respects  as  a  marine  novelist  to  the  better  known  Mr.  Clark  Russell."—  The  Times. 

The  Log  Of  the  "Flying"  Fish":  A  Story  of  Aerial  and 
Submarine  Adventure.  By  HARRY  COLLINGWOOD.  With  6  page 
Illustrations  by  GORDON  BROWNE.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  Qd. 

"The  Flying  Fish  actually  surpasses  all  Jules  Verne's  creations;  with  incred- 
ible speed  she  flies  through  the  air,  skims  over  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  darts 
along  the  ocean  hed.  We  strongly  recommend  our  school-boy  friends  to  possess 
themselves  of  her  log." — Atliencuum. 

For  other  Books  by  Harry  Collingwood,  see  pages  21  and  22. 


BY   GEORGE   MANVILLLE    FENN. 

"  Mr.  Fenn  stands  in  the  foremost  rank  of  writers  in  this  department.  "—Daily 
News. 

Quicksilver:  Or,  A  Boy  with  uo  Skid  to  his  Wheel.  By 
GEORGE  MANVILLE  FENN.  With  10  page  Illustrations  by  FRANK 
DADD.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"  Quicksilver  is  little  short  of  an  inspiration.  In  it  that  prince  of  story-writers 
for  boys — George  Manville  Fenn— has  surpassed  himself.  It  is  an  ideal  book  for 
a  boy's  library."— Practical  Teacher. 

Dick  0'  the  Fens:  A  Romance  of  the  Great  East  Swamp.  By 
G.  MANVILLE  FENN.  With  12  page  Illustrations  by  FRANK  DADD. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"We  conscientiously  believe  that  boys  will  find  it  capital  reading.  It  is  full 
of  incident  and  mystery,  and  the  mystery  is  kept  up  to  the  last  moment.  It  is 
rich  in  effective  local  colouring;  and  it  has  a  historical  interest." — Times. 

Devon  Boys:    A  Tale  of  the  North  Shore.     By  G.  MANVILLE 

FENN.     With  12  page  Illustrations  by  GORDON  BROWNE.     Crown 
8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"An  admirable  story,  as  remarkable  for  the  individuality  of  its  young  heroes 
as  for  the  excellent  descriptions  of  coast  scenery  and  life  in  North  Devon.  It  is 
one  of  the  best  books  we  have  seen  this  season."— Athenaeum. 

The  Golden  Magnet :  A  Tale  of  the  Laud  of  the  Incas.  By 
G.  MANVILLE  FENN.  Illustrated  by  12  page  Pictures  by  GORDON 
BROWNE.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"There  could  be  no  more  welcome  present  for  a  boy.  There  is  not  a  dull  page 
in  the  book,  and  many  will  be  read  with  breathless  interest.  'The  Golden  Mag- 
net '  is,  of  course,  the  same  one  that  attracted  Raleigh  and  the  heroes  of  West- 
ward Ho ! " — Journal  of  Education. 


BLACK  IE  A  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE.  13 


BY    GEORGE    MANVILLE    FENN. 

"  No  one  can  find  his  way  to  the  hearts  of  lads  more  readily  than  Mr.  Fenn."— 
Nottingham  Guardian. 

In  the  King's  Name:  Or,  The  Cruise  of  the  Kestrel.  By 
G.  MANVILLE  FENN.  Illustrated  by  12  page  Pictures  by  GORDON 
BROWNE.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  6s. 

"The  best  of  all  Mr.  Fenn's  productions  in  this  field.  It  has  the  great  quality 
of  always  'moving  on',  adventure  following  adventure  in  constant  succession."— 
Daily  Nercs. 

Nat  the  Naturalist:  A  Boy's  Adventures  in  the  Eastern 
Seas.  By  G.  MANVILLE  FENN.  With  8  page  Pictures.  Crown  8vo, 
cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"This  sort  of  book  encourages  independence  of  character,  develops  resource, 
and  teaches  a  boy  to  keep  his  eyes  open." — Saturday  Review. 

Bunyip  Land:   The  Story  of  a  Wild  Journey  in  New  Guinea. 

By  G.  MANVILLE  FENN.     With  6  page  Illustrations  by  GORDON 

BROWNE.     Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  4s. 

"  Mr.  Fenn  deserves  the  thanks  of  everybody  for  Bunyip  Land,  and  we  may  ven- 
ture to  promise  that  a  quiet  week  may  be  reckoned  on  whilst  the  youngsters  have 
sucli  fascinating  literature  provided  for  their  evenings'  amusement."— Spectator. 

Brownsmith's  Boy.     By  G.  MANVILLE  FENN.     With  6  page 

Illustrations.     Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  6d. 

"  Mr.  Fenn's  books  are  among  the  best,  if  not  altogether  the  best,  of  the  stories 
for  boys.  Mr.  Fenn  is  at  his  best  in  Brownsmith's  Boy." — Pictorial  World. 


%*  For  other  Books  by  G.  MANVILLE  FENN,  see  pages  21  and  22. 
BY   ASCOTT    R.   HOPE. 


Young1  Travellers'  Tales.     By  ASCOTT  E.  HOPE.    With 

6  Illustrations  by  H.  J.  DRAPER.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  6d. 
These  lively  records  of  haphazard  experience  are  drawn  from  various 
parts  of  the  world.  There  is  a  thrilling  adventure  in  the  Austrian  Tirol, 
a  mischance  in  Norway,  an  exciting-  escapade  in  Africa,  a  tale  of  shooting 
in  India,  a  cyclist's  laughable  exploit  in  France,  a  runaway  experience  in 
Switzerland,  an  encounter  with  a  Corsican  bandit,  and  other  stories  of  a 
like  entertaining  character.  All  are  presented  in  a  crisp  and  engaging 
style. 

The  Seven  Wise  Scholars.    By  ASCOTT  R  HOPE.    With 

nearly  100  Illustrations  by  GORDON  BROWNE.     Cloth  elegant,  5s. 
"As  full  of  fun  as  a  volume  of  Punch;  with  illustrations,  move  laughter- 
provoking  than  most  we  have  seen  since  Leech  died." — Sheffield  Independent. 

Stories   Of  Old   Renown:    Tales  of  Knights  and  Heroes. 

By  ASCOTT  R.  HOPE.    With  100  Illustrations  by  GORDON  BROWNE. 

Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  6c?. 

"  A  really  fascinating  book  worthy  of  its  telling  title.  There  is,  we  venture  to 
say,  not  a  dull  page  in  the  book,  not  a  story  which  will  not  bear  a  second  read- 
ing."— Guardian. 


14  BLACKIE  &  SON'S   BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE. 

The  Universe :  Or  The  Infinitely  Great  and  the  Infinitely  Little. 
A  Sketch  of  Contrasts  in  Creation,  and  Marvels  revealed  and 
explained  by  Natural  Science.  By  F.  A.  POUCHET,  M.D.  With 
272  Engravings  on  wood,  of  which  55  are  full-page  size,  and  a 
Coloured  Frontispiece.  Eleventh  Edition,  medium  8vo,  cloth  ele- 
gant, gilt  edges,  7s.  Qd.  •  also  morocco  antique,  16s. 

"  We  can  honestly  commend  Professor  Pouchet's  book,  which  is  admirably,  as 
it  is  copiously  illustrated."— The  Times. 

"Scarcely  any  book  in  French  or  in  English  is  so  likely  to  stimulate  in  the 
young  an  interest  in  the  physical  phenomena." — Fortnightly  Review. 

BY    ROBERT   LEIGHTON. 


Olaf  the  GlOPiOUS.  By  EGBERT  LEIGHTON.  With  8  page 
Illustrations  by  RALPH  PEACOCK,  and  a  Map.  Crown  8vo,  cloth 
elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

This  story  of  Olaf  the  Glorious,  King  of  Norway,  opens  with  the  incident 
of  his  being  found  by  his  uncle  living'  as  a  bond-slave  in  Esthonia,  and  it 
follows  him  through  his  romantic  youth  in  the  court  of  King  Valdemar  of 
Russia.  Then  come  his  adventures  as  a  Viking  and  his  raids  upon  the 
coasts  of  Scotland  and  England,  his  victorious  battle  against  the  English 
at  Maldon.in  Essex,  and  his  conversion  to  Christianity.  He  then  returns 
to  pagan  Norway,  is  accepted  as  king,  and  converts  his  people  to  the 
Christian  faith.  The  story  closes  with  the  great  battle  of  Svold,  when 
Olaf,  defeated,  jumps  overboard,  and  is  last  seen  with  the  sunlight  shining 
on  the  glittering  cross  upon  his  shield. 

The  Wreck  of  "The  Golden  Fleece".  The  story  of  a 

North  Sea  Fisher-boy.  By  ROBERT  LEIGHTON.  With  8  page 
Illustrations  by  FRANK  BRANGWYN.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant, 
olivine  edges,  5s. 

"  This  story  should  add  considerably  to  Mr.  Leighton's  high  reputation.  Ex- 
cellent in  every  respect,  it  contains  every  variety  of  incident.  The  plot  is  very 
cleverly  devised,  and  the  types  of  the  North  Sea  sailors  are  capital."— The  Tin«'x. 

The  Pilots  Of  Pomona:  A  Story  of  the  Orkney  Islands. 
By  ROBERT  LEIGHTON.  With  8  page  Illustrations  by  JOHN  LEIGH- 
TON,  and  a  Map.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"  A  story  which  is  quite  as  good  in  its  way  as  Treasure  Island,  and  is  full  of 
adventure  of  a  stirring  yet  most  natural  kind.  Although  it  is  primarily  a  boys' 
book,  it  is  a  real  godsend  to  the  elderly  reader." — Glasgoiv  Evening  Times. 

The  Thirsty  Sword:  A  Story  of  the  Norse  Invasion  of 
Scotland  (1262-63).  By  ROBERT  LEIGHTON.  With  8  page  Illus- 
trations by  ALFRED  PEARSE,  and  a  Map.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  ele- 
gant, olivine  edges,  5,s. 

"  This  is  one  of  the  most  fascinating  stories  for  boys  that  it  has  ever  been  our 
pleasure  to  read.  From  first  to  last  the  interest  never  flags.  Boys  will  worship 
Kenric,  who  is  a  hero  in  every  sense  of  the  word." — Schoolmaster. 


BLACKIE  A  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE. 


BY    DR.   GORDON    STABLES. 


TO  Greenland  and  the  Pole.  By  GORDON  STABLES,  M.D. 
With  8  page  Illustrations  by  Gr.  C.  HINDLEY,  and  a  Map.  Crown 
8vo,  cloth  elegant,  oli- 
vine  edges,  5s. 

The  unfailing  fascination 
of  Arctic  venturing  is  pre- 
sented in  this  story  with 
new  vividness.  The  author 
is  himself  an  old  Arctic 
voyager,  and  he  is  thus 
enabled  to  make  excellent 
use  of  the  recent  exploits  of 
Nansen  in  Greenland,  and 
the  splendid  daring  of  that 
explorer's  present  expedi- 
tion. The  story  deals  with 
skilobnin,g  in  the  north  of 
Scotland,  deer-hunting  in 
Norway,  sealing  in  the  Arc- 
tic Seas,  bear-stalking  on 
the  ice-floes,  the  hardships 
of  a  journey  across  Green- 
land, and  a  successful 
voyage  to  the  back  of  the 
North  Pole.  This  is,  in- 
deed, a  real  sea-yarn  by  a 
real  sailor,  and  the  tone 
is  as  bright  and  whole- 
some as  the  adventures  are 
numerous. 


Reduced  Illustration  from  "Grettir  the  Oittlaw  ". 


Westward  With  ColumbUS.  By  GORDON  STABLES,  M.D., 
c.M.  With  8  page  Illustrations  by  ALFRED  PEARSE.  Crown  8vo, 
cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"We  must  place  Westward  with  Columbus  among  those  books  that  all  boys 
ought  to  read.v— The  Spectator. 

Twixt  School  and  College :  A  Tale  of  Self-reliance.  By 
GORDON  STABLES,  C.M.,  M.D.,  R.N.  With  8  page  Illustrations  by 
W.  PARKINSON.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5.s. 

"One  of  the  best  of  a  prolific  writer's  books  for  boys,  being  full  of  practical 
instructions  as  to  keeping  pets,  and  inculcates  in  a  way  which  a  little  recalls  Miss 
Edgeworth's  'Frank'  the  virtue  of  self-reliance."— A thencpum. 


16  BLACK  IK  &  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE. 


BY  G.  NORWAY. 


A   Prisoner  Of  War:    A   Story  of  the  Time  of   Napoleon 
Bonaparte.    By  G-.  NORWAY.    With  6  page  Illustrations  by  ROBT. 
BARNES,  A.R.W.S.     Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  6d. 
When  Napoleon  Bona,parte  suddenly  broke  the  treaty  of  Amiens  and 
declared  war  against  England,  many  peaceful  Englishmen  who  had  ven- 
tured to  reside  upon  the  Continent  were  made  prisoners.     Among  these 
was  Captain  Wynter,  who  was  arrested  at  Helvoetsluys  in  Holland,  and 
from  thence  carried  into  France.     His  family  escaped  across  the  Channel, 
but  his  son,  a  young  lad,  determined  to  return,  trace  out  his  father,  and 
assist  him  to  escape.     Disguised  as  a  packman  he  searched  France  from 
fortress  to  fortress.     After  many  a  mischance  and  many  a  hair-breadth 
escape  he  finds  his  father,  contrives  his  escape,  and  brings  him  safely  to 
England.     It  is  a  romantic  narrative,  with  the  additional  merit  of  being 
true. 

A  True  Cornish  Maid.  By  G.  NORWAY.  With  6  page 
Illustrations  by  J.  FINNEMORE.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  6rf. 

"There  is  some  excellent  reading.  .  .  .  Mrs.  Norway  brings  before  the  eyes 
of  her  readers  the  good  Cornish  folk,  their  speech,  their  manners,  and  their  ways. 
A  True  Cornish  Maid  deserves  to  be  popular."— A thenceuin. 

"Among  girls'  books  the  success  of  the  year  has  fallen,  we  think,  to  Mrs.  Norway, 
whose  True  Cornish  Maid  is  really  an  admirable  piece  of  work.  .  .  .  The  book 
is  full  of  vivid  and  accurate  local  colour;  it  contains,  too,  some  very  clever 
character  studies."— Review  of  Reviews. 

Hussein  the  Hostage :  Or,  A  Boy's  Adventures  in  Persia. 
By  G.  NORWAY.  With  8  page  Illustrations  by  JOHN  SCHONBERG. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"  Hussein  the  Hostage  is  full  of  originality  and  vigour.  The  characters  are  life- 
like, there  is  plenty  of  stirring  incident,  the  interest  is  sustained  throughout,  and 
every  boy  will  enjoy  following  the  fortunes  of  the  hero."— Journal  of  Education. 

The  LOSS  Of  John  Humble:  What  Led  to  It,  and  What 
Came  of  It.  By  G.  NORWAY.  With  8  page  Illustrations  by  JOHN 
SCHONBERG.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  5s. 

"  This  story  will  place  the  author  at  once  in  the  front  rank.  It  is  full  of  life 
and  adventure.  He  is  equally  at  home  in  his  descriptions  of  life  in  Sweden  and 
in  the  more  stirring  passages  of  wreck  and  disaster,  and  the  interest  of  the  story 
is  sustained  without  a  break  from  first  to  last."—  Standard. 


Under  False  Colours:  A  Story  from  Two  Girls'  Lives. 
By  SARAH  DOUDNEY.  With  6  page  Illustrations  by  G.  G.  KIL- 
BURNE.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  4s. 

"Sarah  Doudney  has  no  superior  as  a  writer  of  high-toned  stories— pure  in 
style,  original  in  conception,  and  with  skilfully  wrought-out  plots;  but  we  have 
seen  nothing  from  her  pen  equal  in  dramatic  energy  to  this  book."— Cfirixtian 
Leader. 


BLACKIE  <fr  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE.  17 

With  the  Sea  Kings :  A  Story  of  the  Days  of  Lord  Nelson. 
By  F.  H.  WINDER.  With  6  page  Illustrations  by  W.  S.  STACEY. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  4s. 

"  Just  the  book  to  put  into  a  boy's  hands.  Every  chapter  contains  boardings, 
cuttings  out,  fighting  pirates,  escapes  of  thrilling  audacity,  and  captures  by  corsairs, 
sufficient  to  turn  the  quietest  boy's  head.  The  story  culminates  in  a  vigorous 
account  of  the  battle  of  Trafalgar.  Happy  boys  :  ' — The  Academy. 


GrettiP  the  Outlaw:  A  Story  of  Iceland.     By  S.  BARING- 

'  GOULD.     With  6  page  Illustrations  by  M.  ZENO  DIEMER,  and  a 
Coloured  Map.     New  Edition.     Crown  8vc,  cloth  elegant,  4s. 

"  Is  the  boys'  book  of  its  year  That  is,  of  course,  as  much  as  to  say  that  it 
will  do  for  men  grown  as  well  as  juniors.  It  is  told  in  simple,  straightforward 
English,  as  all  stories  should  be,  and  it  has  a  freshness,  a  freedom,  a  sense  of  sun 
and  wind  and  the  open  air,  which  make  it  irresistible."— National  Observer. 


Gold,  Gold,  in  CaribOO :  A  Story  of  Adventure  in  British 
Columbia.  By  CLIVE  PHILLIPPS-WOLLEY.  With  6  page  Illustra- 
tions by  G.  C.  HINDLEY.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  extra,  3s.  Gd. 

"  It  would  be  difficult  to  say  too  much  in  favour  of  Gold,  Gold,  in  Cariboo.  We 
have  seldom  read  a  more  exciting  tale  of  wild  mining  adventure  in  a  singularly 
inaccessible  country.  There  is  a  capital  plot,  and  the  interest  is  sustained  to  the 
last  page."— The  Times. 


A  Champion  Of  the  Faith:  A  Tale  of  Prince  Hal  and  the 
Lollards.  By  J.  M.  CALLWELL.  With  6  page  Illustrations  by 
HERBERT  J.  DRAPER.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  4s. 

"  Will  not  be  less  enjoyed  than  Mr.  Henty's  books.  Sir  John  Oldcastle's  pathetic 
story,  and  the  history  of  his  brave  young  squire,  will  make  every  boy  enjoy  this 
lively  story." — London  Quarterly. 


BY   ALICE   CORKRAN. 


Meg's  Friend.  By  ALICE  CORKRAN.  With  6  page  Illustra- 
tions by  ROBERT  FOWLER.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  extra,  3s.  6d. 

"One  of  Miss  Corkran's  charming  books  for  girls,  narrated  in  that  simple 
and  picturesque  style  which  marks  the  authoress  as  one  of  the  first  amongst 
writers  for  young  people."— The  Spectator. 

Margery  Merton's  Girlhood.    By  ALICE  CORKRAN.  With 

6  page  Pictures  by  GORDON  BROWNE.     Cr.  8vo,  cloth  extra,  3s.  6rf. 

"Another  book  for  girls  we  can  warmly  commend.  There  is  a  delightful 
piquancy  in  the  experiences  and  trials  of  a  young  English  girl  who  studies 
painting  in  Paris." — Saturday  Review. 

Down  the  SnOW  Stairs:  Or,  From  Good-night  to  Good- 
morning.  By  ALICE  CORKRAN.  With  60  Illustrations  by  GORDON 
BROWNE.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  olivine  edges,  3s.  6d. 

"A  gem  of  the  first  water,  bearing  upon  every  page  the  mark  of  genius.  It  is 
indeed  a  Little  Pilgrim's  Progress."— Christian  Leader.  g 


BLACK  IE  cfc  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE. 


Sou'wester  and   Sword.      By  HUGH  ST.  LEGER.     With  6 
page  Illustrations  by  HAL  HURST.     Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  4s. 

This  is  the  book  for  a  lad  who  loves  a  sea-yarn.  The  fun  no  less  than  the 
dangers  of  a  sailor's  life  are  faithfully  depicted.  Shark  fishing,  mast- 
heading1, galley-ranging,  mutiny,  tropical  gales,  death  at  sea,  and  the 
final  shipwreck,  are  incidents  in  a  tale  which  is  one  continuous  adventure. 
The  hero  and  several  of  the  crew  are  saved  from  the  wreck,  and  with  the 
harum-scarum  recklessness  of  seamen  they  join  the  English  expedition 
against  the  Mahdi,  taking  part  in  the  terrible  lighting  around  Suakim. 


BY    EDGAR    PICKERING. 


In  Press-Gang"  Days.  By  EDGAR  PICKERING.  With  6 
Illustrations  by  W.  S.  STAGEY.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  '3s.  6d. 

In  this  story  Harry  Waring  is  caught  by  the  Press-gang  and  carried  on 
board  His  Majesty's  ship  Sandicick.  He  takes  part  in  the  mutiny  of  the 
Nore,  and  shares  in  some  hard  fighting  on  board  the  frig-ate  Phoenix.  He 
is  with  Nelson,  also,  at  the  storming  of  Santa  Cruz,  and  the  battle  of  the 
Nile.  His  career  is  like  to  end  in  a  French  prison,  but  he,  with  some 
companions,  manage  to  escape,  seize  a  French  schooner,  tight  their  way 
out  of  the  harbour,  and  so  return  home  with  a  prize. 

An  Old- Time  Yam:  Wherein  is  set  forth  divers  desperate 
mischances  which  befell  Anthony  Ingram  and  his  shipmates  in  the 
West  Indies  and  Mexico  with  Hawkins  and  Drake.  By  EDGAR 
PICKERING.  Illustrated  with  6  page  Pictures  drawn  by  ALFRED 
PEARSE.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  Qd. 

"  And  a  very  good  yarn  it  is,  with  not  a  dull  page  from  first  to  last.  There  is 
a  flavour  of  Westward  Ho!  in  this  attractive  book."— Educational  Review. 

Silas  Verney:  A  Tale  of  the  Time  of  Charles  II.     By  EDGAR 
PICKERING.    With  6  page  Illustrations  by  ALFRED  PEARSE.    Crown 
8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  Qd. 
"Wonderful  as  the  adventures  of  Silas  are,  it  must  be  admitted  that  they  are 

very  naturally  worked  out  and  very  plausibly  presented.     Altogether  this  is  an 

excellent  story  for  boys. " — Satiirday  Review. 


BY   ANNIE    E.   ARMSTRONG. 


Three  Bright  GirlS:  A  Story  of  Chance  and  Mischance. 
By  ANNIE  E.  ARMSTRONG.  With  6  page  Illustrations  by  W.  PAR- 
KINSON. Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  Qd. 

"Among  many  good  stories  for  girls  this  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  very  best. 
The  three  girls  whose  portraits  are  so  admirably  painted  are  girls  of  earnest, 
practical,  and  business-like  mood.  Ever  bright  and  cheerful,  they  influence  other 
lives,  and  at  last  they  come  out  of  their  trials  and  difficulties  with  honour  to 
themselves  and  benefits  to  all  about  them." — Teachers  Aid. 

A  Very  Odd  Girl:    or,  Life  at  the  Gabled  Farm.     By  ANNIE 
E.  ARMSTRONG.   With  6  page  Illustrations  by  S.  T.  DADD.    Crown 
8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  Qd. 
"The  book  is  one  we  can  heartily  recommend,  for  it  is  not  only  bright  and 

interesting,  but  also  pure  and  healthy  in  tone  and  teaching."— The  Lady. 


BLACK  IK  A  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE.  19 


BY  C.  J.  HYNE. 


The  Captured  Cruiser:  or,  Two  Years  from  Land.  By 
C.  J.  HYNE.  With  6  page  Illustrations  by  FRANK  BRANGWYN. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  6d. 

"The  two  lads  and  the  two  skippers  are  admirably  drawn.     Mr.  Hyne  has 
now  secured  a  position  in  the  first  rank  of  writers  of  fiction  for  boys." — Spectator. 


Afloat  at  Last :  A  Sailor  Boy's  Log  of  his  Life  at  Sea.  By 
JOHN  C.  HUTCHESON.  With  6  page  Illustrations  by  W.  H. 
OVEREND.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  Qd. 

"As  healthy  and  breezy  a  book  as  one  could  wish  to  put  into  the  hands  of 
a  boy." — Academy. 

Picked  Up  at  Sea:  Or,  The  Gold  Miners  of  Minturne  Creek. 
By  J.  C.  HUTCHESON.  With  6  page  Pictures.  Cloth  extra,  3s.  6d. 

"  The  author's  success  with  this  book  is  so  marked  that  it  may  well  encourage  him 
to  further  efforts.  The  description  of  mining  life  in  the  Far  West  is  true  and  accu- 
rate."— Standard. 

Cousin    Geoffrey  and   I.      By  CAROLINE  AUSTIN.     With  6 

page  Illustrations  by  W.  PARKINSON.    Crown  8vo,  cloth  extra,  3s.  6d. 

"Miss  Austin's  story  is  bright,  clever,  and  well  developed."— Saturday  Review. 


Brother  and  Sister:  Or,  The  Trials  of  the  Moore  Family. 
By  ELIZABETH  J.  LYSAGHT.  With  6  page  Illustrations.  Crown 
8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  6rf. 

"  A  pretty  story,  and  well  told.     The  plot  is  cleverly  constructed,  and  the  moral 
is  excellent." — Athenoeum. 


The  Search  for  the  Talisman:  A  story  of  Labrador. 

By  HENRY  FRITH.     With  6  page  Illustrations  by  J.  SCHONBERG. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  6rf. 

"  Mr.  Frith's  volume  will  be  among  those  most  read  and  highest  valued.  The 
adventures  among  seals,  whales,  and  icebergs  in  Labrador  will  delight  many  a 
young  reader." — I'all  Mall  Gazette. 


Reefer  and  Rifleman :  A  Tale  of  the  Two  Services.  By 
Lieut.-Col.  PERCY -GROVES.  With  6  page  Illustrations  by  JOHN 
SCHONBERG.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  6d. 

"A  good,  old-fashioned,  amphibious  story  of  our  fighting  with  the  Frenchmen  in 
the  beginning  of  our  century,  with  a  fair  sprinkling  of  fun  and  frolic.  "—Times. 


Dora :  Or,  A  Girl  without  a  Home.    By  Mrs.  E.  H.  READ.   With 
6  page  Illustrations.     Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  6rf. 

"It  is  no  slight  thing,  in  an  age  of  rubbish,  to  get  a  story  so  pure  and  healthy 
as  this." — The  Academy. 


20  BLACK  IE  &  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE. 

Life's  Daily  Ministry:  A  Story  of  Everyday  Service  for 
Others.  By  Mrs.  E.  R.  PITMAN.  With  4  page  Illustrations.  Crown 
8vo,  cloth  extra,  3s.  Gd. 

"Shows  exquisite  touches  of  a  master  hand.     She  depicts  in  graphic  outline 
the  characteristics  of  the  beautiful  and  the  good  in  life."— Christian  Union. 


Storied  Holidays:   A  Cycle  of  Eed-letter  Days.     By  E.  S. 

BROOKS.     With  12  page  Illustrations  by  HOWARD  PYLE.     Crown 
8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  6d. 

"  It  is  a  downright  good  book  for  a  senior  boy,  and  is  eminently  readable  from 
first  to  last." — Schoolmaster. 

ChivalriC  Days:  Stories  of  Courtesy  and  Courage  in  the 
Olden  Times.  By  E.  S.  BROOKS.  With  20  Illustrations  by 
GORDON  BROWNE  and  other  Artists.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  extra,  3s.  6d. 

"We  have  seldom  come  across  a  prettier  collection  of  tales.  These  charming 
stories  of  boys  and  girls  of  olden  days  are  no  mere  fictitious  or  imaginary  sketches, 
but  are  real  and  actual  records  of  their  sayings  and  doings." — Literary  World. 

Historic  Boys:  Their  Endeavours,  their  Achievements,  and 
their  Times.  By  E.  S.  BROOKS.  With  12  page  Illustrations  by 
R.  B.  BIRCH  and  JOHN  SCHONBERG.  Crown  Svo,  cloth  extra,  3s.  6d. 

"A  wholesome  book,  manly  in  tone,  its  character  sketches  enlivened  by  brisk 
dialogue  and  high-class  illustrations;  altogether  one  that  should  incite  boys  to 
further  acquaintance  with  those  rulers  of  men  whose  careers  are  narrated.  We 
advise  teachers  to  put  it  on  their  list  of  prizes." — Knowledge. 


Dr.   Jolliffe'S  Boys:  A  Tale  of  Weston  School.     By  LEWIS 
HOUGH.     With  6  page  Pictures.     Crown  Svo,  cloth  extra,  3s.  6rf. 

"  Young  people  who  appreciate  Tom  Broicris  School-days  win  find  this  story  a 
worthy  companion  to  that  fascinating  book.  There  is  the  same  manliness  of  tone, 
truthfulness  of  outline,  avoidance  of  exaggeration  and  caricature,  and  healthy 
morality  as  characterized  the  masterpiece  of  Mr.  Hughes."— Newcastle  Journal. 


The  Bubbling1  Teapot.  A  Wonder  Story.  By  Mrs.  L.  W. 
CHAMPNEY.  With  12  page  Pictures  by  WALTER  SATTERLEK. 
Crown  Svo,  cloth  extra,  3s.  6d. 

"Very  literally  a  'wonder  story',  and  a  wild  and  fanciful  one.  Nevertheless 
it  is  made  realistic  enough,  and  there  is  a  good  deal  of  information  to  be  gained 
from  it." — The  Times. 


BY   JENNETT   HUMPHREYS. 


Laugh  and  Leam:  The  Easiest  Book  of  Nursery  Lessons 
and  Nursery  Games.  By  JENNETT  HUMPHREYS.  Profusely  Illus- 
trated. Square  Svo,  cloth  extra,  3s.  Qd. 

"One  of  the  best  books  of  the  kind  imaginable,  full  of  practical  teaching  in 
word  and  picture,  and  helping  the  little  ones  pleasantly  along  a  right  royal  road 
to  learning." — Graphic. 


BLACK! E  A  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE.  21 

Thomdyke  ManOP:  A  Tale  of  Jacobite  Times.  By  MARY 
C.  ROWSELL.  With  6  page  Illustrations  by  L.  LESLIE  BROOKE. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  6d. 

"Miss  Rowsell  has  never  written  a  more  attractive  book  than  Thorndyke 
Manor. " — Belfast  News- Letter. 

Traitor  Or  Patriot?  A  Tale  of  the  Rye-House  Plot.  By 
MARY  C.  ROWSELL.  With  6  page  Pictures  by  C.  O.  MURRAY  and 
C.  J.  STANILAND,  R.I.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s.  Qd. 

"  Here  the  Rye-House  Plot  serves  as  the  groundwork  for  a  romantic  love  epi- 
sode, whose  true  characters  are  lifelike  beings." — Graphic. 


BLACKIE'S    NEW   THREE-SHILLING    SERIES. 

Beautifully  Illustrated  and  Handsomely  Bound. 


NEW   VOLUMES. 

Under  Hatches :  or,  Ned  Woodthorpe's  Adventures.  By  F. 
FRANKFORT  MOORE.  With  6  page  Illustrations  by  A.  FORESTIER. 
New  Edition.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s. 

"The  story  as  a  story  is  one  that  will  just  suit  boys  all  the  world  over.  The 
characters  are  well  drawn  and  consistent;  Patsy,  the  Irish  steward,  will  be  found 
especially  amusing." — Schoolmaster. 

The  Congo  Rovers:  A  Story  of  the  Slave  Squadron.  By 
HARRY  COLLINGWOOD.  With  6  page  Illustrations  by  J.  SCHONBERG. 
New  Edition.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  3s. 

"No  better  sea  story  has  lately  been  written  than  the  Congo  Rovers.  It  is  as 
original  as  any  boy  could  desire." — Morning  Post. 

MenhardoC :  A  Story  of  Cornish  Nets  and  Mines.  By  G. 
MANVILLE  FENN.  With  6  page  Illustrations  by  C.  J.  STANILAND, 
R.I.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  extra,  3s. 

"They  are  real  living  boys,  witli  their  virtues  and  faults.  The  Cornish  fisher- 
men are  drawn  from  life,  and  stand  out  from  the  pages  in  their  jerseys  and 
sea-boots  all  sprinkled  with  silvery  pilchard  scales.  "—Spectator. 

YuSSUf  the  Guide :  or,  The  Mountain  Bandits.  A  Story  of 
Strange  Adventure  in  Asia  Minor.  By  G.  MANVILLE  FENN.  With 
6  page  Illustrations  by  J.  SCHONBERG.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  extra,  3s. 

"Told  with  such  real  freshness  and  vigour  that  the  reader  feels  he  is  actually 
one  of  the  party,  sharing  iu  the  fun  and  facing  the  dangers." — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

Robinson  CrUSOe.  With  100  Illustrations  by  GORDON 
BROWNE.  Crown  8vo,  cloth  extra,  3s. 

"One  of  the  best  issues,  if  not  absolutely  the  best,  of  Defoe's  work  which  has 
ever  appeared."— The  Standard. 


22  BLACK1E  &   SON'S  BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE. 


THREE   SHILLING   SERIES— Continued. 


Gulliver's  Travels.  With  100  Illustrations  by  GORDON 
BROWNE.  Crown  Svo,  cloth  extra,  3s. 

"  Mr.  Gordon  Browne  is,  to  my  thinking,  incomparably  the  most  artistic, 
spirited,  and  brilliant  of  our  illustrators  of  books  for  boys,  and  one  of  the  most 
humorous  also,  as  his  illustrations  of  'Gulliver'  amply  testify. "—Truth. 

Patience  Wins :  or,  War  in  the  Works.  By  GEORGE  MAN- 
VILLE  FENN.  With  6  page  Illustrations.  Cr.  Svo,  cloth  extra,  3*. 

"  Mr.  Fenn  has  never  hit  upon  a  happier  plan  than  in  writing  this  story  of 
Yorkshire  factory  life.  The  whole  book  is  all  aglow  witli  life.  "—Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

Mother  Carey's  Chicken:  Her  Voyage  to  the  Unknown 
Isle.  By  G.  MANVILLE  FENN.  With  6  page  Illustrations  by  A. 
FOKESTIER.  Crown  Svo,  cloth  extra,  3s. 

"  Undoubtedly  one  of  the  best  Mr.  Fenn  has  written.  The  incidents  are  of 
thrilling  interest,  while  the  characters  are  drawn  with  a  care  and  completeness 
rarely  found  in  a  boys'  book."—  Literary  World. 

The  Missing"  Merchantman.  By  HARRY  COLLINGWOOD. 
With  6  page  Illustrations  by  W.  H.  OVEREND.  Cloth  extra,  3s. 

"  One  of  the  author's  best  sea  stories.  The  hero  is  as  heroic  as  any  boy  could 
desire,  and  the  ending  is  extremely  happy."— British  Weekly. 

The  Rover's  Secret :  A  Tale  of  the  Pirate  Cays  and  Lagoons 
of  Cuba.  By  HARRY  COLLINGWOOU.  With  6  page  Illustrations  by 
W.  C.  SYMONS.  Crown  Svo,  cloth  elegant,  3s. 

"  The  Rover's  Secret  is  by  far  the  best  sea  story  we  have  read  for  years,  and  is 
certain  to  give  unalloyed  pleasure  to  boys."— Saturday  Rcvieiv. 

The  Wigwam  and  the  War-path:  stories  of  the  Red 

Indians.    By  ASCOTT  R.  HOPE.    With  6  page  Illustrations.    Crown 
Svo,  cloth  elegant,  3s. 

"Is  notably  good.  It  gives  a  very  vivid  picture  of  life  among  the  Indians, 
which  will  delight  the  heart  of  many  a  schoolboy." — Spectator. 

Perseverance  Island:  or,  The  Robinson  Crusoe  of  the  19th 
Century.  By  DOUGLAS  FRAZAR.  With  6  page  Illustrations. 
Crown  Svo,  cloth  extra,  3s. 

"This  is  an  interesting  story,  written  with  studied  simplicity  of  style,  much  in 
Defoe's  vein  of  apparent  sincerity  and  scrupulous  veracity;  while  for  practical 
instruction  it  is  even  better  than  Robinson  Crusoe."— Illustrated  London  News. 

Girl  Neighbours:  or,  The  Old  Fashion  and  the  New.  By 
SARAH  TYTLER.  With  6  page  Illustrations  by  C.  T.  GARLAND. 
Crown  Svo,  cloth  elegant,  3s. 

"One  of  the  most  effective  and  quietly  humorous  of  }liss  Sarah  Tytler's  stories. 
It  is  very  healthy,  very  agreeable,  and  very  well  written."— The  Spectator. 


BLACKIE  cfc  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE.  23 

BY    BEATRICE    HARRADEN. 

Thing's    Will   Take    a   Turn.      By  BEATRICE  HARRADEN. 

A  New  Edition,  with  34  Illustrations  by  JOHN  H.  BACON.     Crown 

8vo,  cloth  elegant,  2s.  6rf. 

A  happy  creation  this  by  the  author  of  "  Ships  that  Pass  in  the  Night ". 
One  cannot  help  loving  the  sunny-hearted  child  who  assists  her  grand-dad 
in  his  dusty  second-hand  book-shop,  she  is  so  gay,  so  engaging,  so  natural. 
And  to  love  Rosebud  is  to  love  all  her  friends,  and  enter  sympathetically 
into  the  good  fortune  she  brought  them.  The  charm  of  this  tale,  as  of  all 
Miss  Harraden's  work,  is  a  delicate,  wistful  sympathy. 


The  Whispering"  Winds,  and  the  Tales  that  they  Told.  By 
MARY  H.  DEBENHAM.  With  25  Illustrations  by  PAUL  HARDY. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  2s.  6<L 

Every  wind  whispered  a  story.  The  South  Wind  came  from  Italy  and 
told  a  bright  little  fairy  tale  about  Baby  Benedetta.  The  North  Wind 
brought  a  weird  story  of  the  spiteful  fairy-folk  from  a  Scottish  glen :  the 
laughing  West  Wind  from  Devonshire  told  of  the  King  of  the  Mist,  and  the 
delights'of  clotted  cream  ;  and  the  East  Wind  spoke  of  the  brave  sea-king's 
daughter  in  Norway  over  the  sea.  And  all  the  tales  were  passing  good. 


BLACKIE'S    HALF-CROWN    SERIES. 

Illustrated  by  eminent  Artists.     In  crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant. 


Hammond's  Hard  Lines.     By  SKELTON  KUPPORD.     Illus- 
trated by  HAROLD  COPPING. 

Tom  Hammond  was  a  pupil  at  a  public  school,  and,  boy-like,  was  much 
given  to  grumbling  and  discontent  with  the  "powers  that  be ".  He  wished 
oh  !  so  many  things.  At  length  in  a  most  curious  and  unexpected  way  he 
received  the  offer  of  Three  Wishes,  which  he  joyfully  accepted.  The  rela- 
tion of  the  adventures  that  ensue  forms  a  graphically  diverting  narrative 
of  the  freshest  interest. 

Dulcie  King1:    A  Story  for  Girls.     By  M.  CORBET- SEYMOUR. 

Illustrated  by  GERTRUDE  D.  HAMMOND. 

A  bright,  happy-going  story  in  which  the  heroine  is  ta.ken  from 
her  modest  home  and  adopted  by  a  rich  relative.  Dulcie  King  is  not 
dazzled,  however,  by  her  new  and  sumptuous  surroundings,  and  the  native 
goodness  of  her  heart  helps  her  to  resist  all  temptations  to  dispossess  the 
rightful  heir.  Dulcie  King  is  a  girl  whom  one  cannot  help  loving. 

Hugh  Herbert's  Inheritance.     By  CAROLINE  AUSTIN. 

With   4    page   Illustrations   by   C.    T.  GARLAND.     New  Edition. 
Crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant,  2s.  6d. 

"Will  please  by  its  simplicity,  its  tenderness,  and  its  healthy  interesting 
motive.  It  is  admirably  written." — Scotsman. 

NlCOla:   The  Career  of  a  Girl  Musician.     By  M.  CORBET-SEY- 
MOUR.    Illustrated  by  GERTRUDE  D.  HAMMOND. 

"There  is  a  great  deal  of  quiet  force  and  strength  about  the  story.  I  can  thor- 
oughly and  heartily  recommend  Nicola  as  a  present  for  girls." — Winter's  Weekly 


24  BLACKIE  Ji  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLJS. 


HALF-CROWN    SERIES— Continued. 


A  Little  Handful.      By  HARRIET  J.  SCRIPFS. 

"A  very  charming  picture  of  a  bright,  lovable,  mischievous  boy,  who  hails  from 
the  New  World."— School  Guardian. 

A  Golden  Age :  A  Story  of  Four  Merry  Children.    By  ISMAY 

THORN.     Illustrated  by  GORDON  BROWNE. 
"  Ought  to  have  a  place  of  honour  on  the  nursery  shelf."— The  Athenceum. 

A  ROUgh  Road:   or,  How  the  Boy  Made  a  Man  of  Himself. 

By  Mrs.  G.  LINNAEUS  BANKS. 

"Told  with  much  simple  force  and  that  charm  which  belongs  to  one  who  has 
known  herself  what  a  rough  road  is,  and  how  to  traverse  it."— Winter's  Weekly. 

The  TWO  Dorothys.     By  Mrs.  HERBERT  MARTIN. 
"A  book  that  will  interest  and  please  all  girls." — The  Lady. 

Penelope  and  the  Others.    By  AMY  WALTON. 

"This  is  a  charming  book  for  children.     Miss  Walton  proves  herself  a  perfect 
adept  in  understanding  of  school-room  joys  and  sorrows." — Christian  Leader. 

A  Cruise   in  ClOUdland.      By  HENRY  FRITH. 

"A  thoroughly  interesting  story."— St.  James's  Gazette. 

Marian  and  Dorothy.     By  ANNIE  E.  ARMSTRONG 
"  This  is  distinctively  a  book  for  girls.    A  bright  wholesome  story."— A cadein y. 

StimSOn's  Reef:  A  Tale  of  Adventure.      By  C.  J.  HYNE. 

"It  may  almost  vie  with  Mr.  R.  L.  Stevenson's  Treasure  Island." — Guardian. 

Gladys  Anstruther.     By  LOUISA  THOMPSON. 

"  It  is  a  clever  book :  novel  and  striking  in  the  highest  degree." — Schoolmistress. 

The  Secret  Of  the  Old  House.      By  E.  EVERETT-GREEN. 

"Tim,  the  little  Jacobite,  is  a  charming  creation."— A cademy. 

Hal   Hungerford.      By  J.  R.  HUTCHINSON,  B.A. 
"  Altogether,  Hal  Hungerford  is  a  distinct  literary  success."— Spectator. 

The  Golden  Weathercock.      By  JULIA  GODDARD. 

"  A  cleverly  conceived  quaint  story,  ingeniously  written."— Saturday  Review. 

White  Lilac:  or,  The  Queen  of  the  May.    By  AMY  WALTON. 
"  Every  rural  parish  ought  to  add  White  Lilac  to  its  library."— Academy. 

Miriam's  Ambition.      By  EVELYN  EVERETT-GREEN. 

"  Miss  Green's  children  are  real  British  boys  and  girls."— Liverpool  Mercury. 

The  Brig"  "  AudaeiOUS".     By  ALAN  COLE. 
"  Fresh  and  wholesome  as  a  breath  of  sea  air."— Court  Journal. 


BLACK1E  «fc  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE. 


HALF-CROWN    SERIES-Continued. 


The  Saucy  May.     By  HENRY  FRITH. 

"  Mr.  Frith  gives  a  new  picture  of  life  on  the  ocean  wave."— Sheffield  Independent. 

Jasper's  Conquest.      By  ELIZABETH  J.  LYSAGHT. 

"  One  of  the  best  boys'  books  of  the  season."— Schoolmaster. 

Little  Lady  Clare.     By  EVELYN  EVERETT-GREEN. 

"  Reminds  us  in  its  quaintness  of  Mrs.  Ewing's  delightful  tales."— Liter.  World. 

The  EvePSley  Secrets.     By  EVELYN  EVERETT-GREEN. 

"  Roy  Eversley  is  a  very  touching  picture  of  high  principle." — Guardian. 

The  Hermit  Hunter  of  the  Wilds.    By  G.  STABLES,  R.N. 

"  Will  gladden  the  heart  of  many  a  bright  boy." — Methodist  Recorder. 

Sturdy  and  Strong1.    By  G.  A.  HENTT. 

"  A  hero  who  stands  as  a  good  instance  of  chivalry  in  domestic  life.  "—The  Empire. 

Gutta  Percha  Willie.     By  GEORGE  MAC  DONALD. 

"  Get  it  for  your  boys  and  girls  to  read  for  themselves."— Practical  Teacher. 

The  War  Of  the  Axe :  Or,  Adventures  in  South  Africa.     By 

J.  PERCY- GROVES. 
"The  story  is  well  and  brilliantly  told."— Literary  World. 

The  Lads  of  Little  Clayton.    BY  R.  STEAD. 

' '  A  capital  book  for  boys. " — •Schoolmaster. 

Ten    Boys  who  lived  on  the  Road  from  Long  Ago  to  Now. 

By  JANE  ANDREWS.     With  20  Illustrations. 
"  The  idea  is  a  very  happy  one,  and  admirably  carried  out."— Practical  Teacher. 

A  Waif  Of  the  Sea:  Or,  The  Lost  Found.     By  KATE  WOOD. 
"Written  with  tenderness  and  grace.  "—Morning  Advertiser. 

Winnie's  Secret.    By  KATE  WOOD. 

"  One  of  the  best  story-books  we  have  read. "— Schoolmaster. 
MiSS  WillOWbum's  Offer      By  SARAH  DOUDNEY. 

"Patience  Willowburti  is  one  of  Miss  Doudney's  best  creations." — Spectator. 

A  Garland  for  Girls.    By  LOUISA  M.  ALCOTT. 

"  These  little  tales  are  the  beau  ideal  of  girls'  stories."— Christian  World. 
Hetty  Gray:   Or,  Nobody's  Bairn.     By  ROSA  MULHOLLAND. 

"Hetty  is  a  delightful  creature— piquant,  tender,  and  true." — World. 

Brothers  in  Arms :    A  Story  of  the  Crusades.     By  F.  BAY- 
FORD  HARRISON. 

"  Sure  to  prove  interesting  to  young  people  of  both  sexes." — Guardian. 

MiSS  Fenwick's  Failures.      By  ESME  STUART. 

"  A  girl  true  to  real  life,  who  will  put  no  nonsense  into  young  heads."— Graphic. 

Gytha'S  Message.      By  EMMA  LESLIE. 
"This  is  the  sort  of  book  that  all  girls  like."— Journal  of  Education. 


BLACK  IK  d-   SOU'S  BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE. 


HALF-CROWN    SERIES-Continued. 


Jack  0'  Lan thorn :   A  Tale  of  Adventure.    By  HENRY  FRITH. 

"The  narrative  is  crushed  full  of  stirring  incident."—  Christian  Leader. 

The  Family  Failing".     By  DARLEY  DALE. 

"A  capital  lesson  on  the  value  of  contentedness."— Aberdeen  Journal. 

My  Mistress  the  Queen.    By  M.  A.  PAULL. 

"  The  style  is  pure  and  graceful,  and  the  story  full  of  interest." — Scotsman. 

The  Stories  of  Wasa  and  Menzikoff. 
Stories  of  the  Sea  in  Former  Days. 
Tales  of  Captivity  and  Exile. 
Famous  Discoveries  by  Sea  and  Land. 
Stirring-  Events  of  History. 
Adventures  in  Field,  Flood,  and  Forest. 

"It  would  be  difficult  to  place  in  the  hands  of  young  people  books  which 
combine  interest  and  instruction  in  a  higher  degree." — Manchester  Courier. 


BLACKIE'S   TWO-SHILLING    SERIES. 

Illustrated  by  eminent  Artists.     In  crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant. 

NEW   VOLUMES. 

The    Organist's    Baby:    A  Story  for  Boys  and  Girls.     By 
KATHLEKN  KNOX.     Illustrated  by  JOHN  H.  BACON. 

SchOOl-DayS   in   France.      By  AN  OLD  GIRL.     Illustrated 
by  W.  PAKKINSON. 

The  Ravensworth  Scholarship:  A  High  School  story 

for  Girls.     By  Mrs.  HENRY  CLARKE,  M.A.     Illustrated  by  JOHN  H. 
BACON. 

Queen  Of  the  Daffodils :   A  Story  of  High  School  Life.    By 
LESLIE  LAING. 

Raff's  Ranche :   A  Story  of  Adventure  among  Cow-boys  and 
Indians.     By  F.  M.  HOLMES. 

An   Unexpected   Hero.       By  ELTZ.  J.  LYSAGHT. 

The  Bushranger's  Secret.     By  Mrs.  HENRY  CLARKE,  M.A. 

The  White  Squall.      By  JOHN  C.  HUTCHESON. 

The  Wreck  of  the  "Nancy  Bell".    By  J.  c.  HUTCHESON 
The  Lonely  Pyramid.     By  J.  H.  YOXALL. 

Bab:  or,  The  Triumph  of  Unselfishness.     By  ISMAY  THORN. 
Climbing'   the  Hill,  and  other  Stories.     By  ANNIE  S.  SWAN. 


BLACK1E  «0   SON'S  BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE. 


TWO-SHILLING    SERIES-Continued. 


Brave  and   True,  and  other  Stories.      By  GREGSON  Gow. 
The  Light    Princess.     By  GEORGE  MAC  DONALD. 

Nutbrown  Roger  and  I.     By  j.  H.  YOXALL. 

Warner's  Chase :  Or,  The  Gentle  Heart.    By  ANNIE  S.  SWAN. 


Reduced  Illustration  from,  "  The  Queen  of  the  Daffodils". 

Sam  Silvan's  Sacrifice.      By  JESSE  COLMAN. 

Insect  Ways  On  Summer  Days  in  Garden,  Forest,  Field, 
and  Stream.     By  JENNETT  HUMPHREYS.     With  70  Illustrations. 

Susan.     By  AMY  WALTON. 

A  Pair  Of  ClOgS.     By  AMY  WALTON. 

The  Hawthorns.      By  AMY  WALTON. 

Dorothy's  Dilemma.      By  CAROLINE  AUSTIN. 


28  BLACKIE  A  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE. 


TWO-SHILLING    SERIES-Continued. 


Marie's  Home.    By  CAROLINE  AUSTIN. 

A  Warrior  King".    By  j.  EVELYN. 

Aboard  the   "Atalanta".     By  HENRY  FRITH. 
The  Penang*  Pirate.     By  JOHN  C.  HUTCHESON. 
Teddy:  The  Story  of  a  "  Little  Pickle  ".  By  JOHN  C.  HUTCHESON. 
A  Rash  Promise.     By  CECILIA  SELBY  LOWNDES. 
Linda  and  the  Boys.     By  CECILIA  SELBY  LOWNDES. 

SwiSS  Stories  for  Children.     From  the  German  of  MADAM 
JOHANNA  SPYRI.     By  LUCY  WHEELOCK. 

The  Squire's  Grandson.     By  J.  M.  CALLWELL. 

MagTia  Charta  Stories.     Edited  by  ARTHUR  OILMAN,  A.M. 

The     Wing's     Of     Courage;     AND    THE    CLOUD  -  SPINNER. 
Translated  from  the  French  of  GEORGE  SAND,  hy  Mrs.  CORKRAN. 

Chirp  and   Chatter:    Or,  LESSONS  FROM  FIELD  AND  TREE. 
By  ALICE  BANKS.     With  54  Illustrations  by  GORDON  BKOWNE. 

Four  Little  Mischiefs.      By  ROSA  MULHOLLAND. 
New  Light  thrOUgft  Old  WindOWS.     By  GREGSON  Gow. 
Little  Tottie,  and  Two  Other  Stories.     By  THOMAS  ARCHER. 
Naughty  Miss  Bunny.     By  CLARA  MULHOLLAND. 
Adventures  Of  Mrs.  Wishing-tO-be.    By  ALICE  CORKRAN. 
The  JoyOUS  Story  Of  TotO-     By  LAURA  E.  RICHARDS. 
Our  Dolly :  Her  Words  and  Ways.    By  MRS.  R.  H.  READ.    2s. 
Fairy  Fancy :  What  she  Heard  and  Saw.  By  MRS.  READ.   2s. 


BLACKIE'S   EIGHTEENPENNY   SERIES. 

With  Illustrations.     In  crown  8vo,  cloth  elegant. 


NEW    VOLUMES. 
Olive  and  Robin :  or,  A  Journey  to  Nowhere.     By  the  Author  of 

"  Two  Dorothys  ". 

Mona'S  Trust :  A  Story  for  Girls.     By  PENELOPE  LESLIE. 
Little  Jimmy:  A  Story  of  Adventure.    By  Rev.  D.  RICE-JONES,  M.A. 
Pleasures  and  Pranks.     By  ISABELLA  PEARSON. 
In    a    Stranger's    Garden:    A    Story   for   Boys   and   Girls.     By 

CONSTANCE  CUMING. 


BLACK  IE  &  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE. 


EIGHTEENPENNY    SERIES     Continued. 


A  Soldier's  Son :  The  Story  of  a  Boy 
who  Succeeded.   By  ANNETTE  LYS- 

TER. 

Mischief  and  Merry-making.    By 

ISABELLA  PEARSON. 
Littlebourne  Lock.    By 

F.  BAYFORD  HARRISON. 

Wild    Meg    and    Wee 

Dickie.    By  MARY  E. 

ROPES.          / 
Grannie.    By  ELIZABETH 

J.  LYSAGHT. 

The   Seed    She  Sowed. 

By  EMMA  LESLIE. 
Unlucky:  A  Fragment  of  a 

Girl's  Life.    By  CARO- 
LINE AUSTIN. 
Everybody's    Business: 

or  a  Friend  in  Need. 

By  ISMAY  THORN. 
Tales    of    Daring    and 

Danger.      By  G.    A. 

HENTY. 
The  Seven  Golden  Keys. 

By  JAMES  E.  ARNOLD. 
The  Story  of  a  Queen. 

By  MARY  C.  ROWSELL. 
Edwy:     Or,    Was    he    a 

Coward?    By  ANNETTE 

LYSTER. 
The    Battlefield    Trea 

sure.    By  F.  BAYFORD 

HARRISON. 
Joan's   Adventures    at 

the  North  Pole.    By 

ALICE   CORKRAN. 

Filled  with  Gold.    By  J. 

PERRETT. 
Our  General:  A  Story  for 

Girls.     By  ELIZABETH 

J.  LYSAGHT. 

Aunt  Hesba's  Charge 
By  ELIZABETH  J.  LY- 
SAGHT. 

By  Order  of  Queen  Maude:  A  story 
of  Home  Life.     By  LOUISA  CROW. 

The  Late  Miss   Hollingford.     By 

ROSA  MULHOLLAND. 

Our  Frank.    By  AMY  WALTON. 
A  Terrible  Coward.     By  G.  MAN- 
VILLE  FENN. 

By  G.   A. 


Town  Mice  in  the  Country. 
M.  E.  FRANCIS. 


By 


Phil   and  his  Father.      By  ISMAY 

THORN. 
Prim's  Story.    By  L.  E.  TIDDEMAN. 


Reduced  Specimen  of  the  Illustrations. 


Down  and  Up  Again.    By  GREGSON 

GOW. 


Yarns  on  the  Beach. 
HENTY. 

Tom   Finch's   Monkey. 

HUTCHESON. 


By  J.   C. 


Miss  Grantley's  Girls,  and  the  Stories 

she  told  them.    By  THOS.  ARCHER. 

The  Pedlar  and  his  Dog.    By  MARY 

C.  ROWSELL. 


Madge's    Mistake. 
ARMSTRONG. 


By   ANNIE   E. 


The  Troubles   and   Triumphs   of 
Little  Tim.    By  GREGSON  Gow. 

The  Happy  Lad:  A  Story  of  Peasant 
Life  in  Norway.    By  B.  BJORNSON. 

Into  the  Haven.  By  ANNIE  S.  SWAN. 

A  Box  of  Stories.    Packed  for  Young 
Folk  by  HORACE  HAPPYMAN. 

The  Patriot  Martyr,  and  other  Nar- 
X'atives  of  Female  Heroism. 


so 


BLACK  IE  cfc  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE 


LIBRARY   OF   FAMOUS    BOOKS   FOR 
BOYS   AND   GIRLS. 

In  Crown  8vo.     Illustrated.     Cloth  extra,  Is.  6d.  each, 
in    S. 


Waterton's     Wanderings 
America. 

Anson's  Voyage  Round  the  World. 

Autobiography      of       Benjamin 
Franklin. 

Lamb's  Tales  from  Shakspeare. 
Southey's  Life  of  Nelson. 


Miss  Mitford's  Our  Village. 

Dana's    Two    Years    before 
Mast. 


the 


Marryat's   Children  of  the  New 
Forest. 

Scott's  The  Talisman. 
The  Basket  of  Flowers. 

[Others  in  preparation. 


THE   SHILLING   SERIES   OF   JUVENILES. 

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By  M.  CORBET 


Only  a  Shilling. 

SEYMOUR. 

Sparkles.    By  HARRIET  J.  SCRIPPS. 

Just   Like  a  Girl.      By  PENELOPE 
LESLIE. 


Daisy  and  her  Friends 

TIDDEMAN. 


By  L.  E. 


Brave  Dorette.  By  JULIA  GODDARD. 
Piecrust    Promises.       By  W.    L. 
HOOPER. 

Summer  Fun  and  Frolic.    By  ISA- 
BELLA PEARSON. 

Little  Aunt  Dorothy.     By  JENNIE 
CHAPPELL. 

The  Lost  Dog.  By  ASCOTT  R.  HOPE. 

The  Rambles  of  Three  Children. 
By  GERALDINE  MOCKLER. 

A  Council  of  Courtiers.    By  CORA 
LANGTON. 

A  Parliament  of  Pickles.  By  CORA 
LANGTON. 

Sharp  Tommy.    By  E.  J.  LYSAGHT. 

Adventures  of  Nell,  Eddie,  and 
Toby.    By  GERALDINE  MOCKLER. 

Freda's  Folly.    By  M.  S.  HAYCRAFT. 

Philip  Danford :   A  Story  of  School 
Life.     By  JULIA  GODDARD. 

The  Youngest  Princess.  By  JENNIE 
CHAPPELL. 


Arthur's  Temptation. 

LESLIE, 


By  EMMA 


A  Change  for  the  Worse. 

HARRIET  M.  CAPES. 


By  M. 


Our  Two  Starlings.  By  C.  REDFORD. 
Mr.  Lipscombe's  Apples.   By  JULIA 

GODDARD. 

Gladys.    By  E.  O'BYRNE. 

A  Gypsy  against  Her  Will.      By 
EMMA  LESLIE. 

How  the  Strike  Began.    Do. 
The  Castle  on  the  Shore.    By  ISA- 
BEL HORNIBROOK. 

An   Emigrant   Boy's   Story.      By 

ASCOTT  R.  HOPE. 
Jock   and   his   Friend.     By  CORA 

LANGTON. 

John  a'  Dale.  By  MARY  C.  ROWSELL. 
In  the  Summer  Holidays.    By  JEN- 

NETT  HUMPHREYS. 
Tales  from  the  Russian  of  Madame 

Kabalensky.    By  G.  JENNER. 
Cinderella's  Cousin.  By  PENELOPE. 
Their  New  Home.    By  A.  S.  FENN. 
Janie's  Holiday.    By  C.  REDFORD. 
A  Boy  Musician:  or,  The  Young  Days 

of  Mozart. 

Hatto's  Tower.    By  M.  C.  ROWSELL. 
Fairy  Lovebairn's  Favourites. 
Alf  Jetsam.    By  Mrs.  GEO.  CUPPLES. 
The  Redfords.  By  Mrs.  G.  CUPPLES. 
Missy.    By  F.  BAYFORD  HARRISON. 
Hidden  Seed.    By  EMMA  LESLIE. 
Tom  Watkin's  Mistake.    Do. 


BLACK  IE  «fr  SON'S  BOOKS  FOE  CHILDREN, 


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SHILLING   SERIES-Continued. 


Ursula's  Aunt.    By  ANNIK  S.  FENN. 

Jack's  Two  Sovereigns.   By  ANNIE 
S.  FENN. 

A  Little  Adventurer.  By  G.  Gow. 
Olive  Mount.  By  ANNIE  S.  FENN. 
The  Children  of  Hay  combe.  Do. 
Three  Little  Ones.  By  c.  LANGTON. 

Two  Little  Brothers.    By  M.  HAR- 
RIET M.  CAPES. 

The  New  Boy  at  Merriton. 
JULIA  GODDARD. 


The  Cruise  of  the 
F.  M.  HOLMES. 


Petrel 


By 
By 


The  Wise  Princess.  By  M.  HARRIET 

M.  CAPES. 

The  Blind  Boy  of  Dresden. 
Jon  of  Iceland. 
Stories  from  Shakespeare. 
Every  Man  in  his  Place. 
Fireside  Fairies  and  Fancies. 
To  the  Sea  in  Ships. 
Jack's  Victory:  Stories  about  Dogs. 
Story  of  a  King. 
Prince  Alexis:  or,  Old  Russia. 
Little  Daniel :  A  Story  of  the  Rhine. 
Sasha  the  Serf:  Stories  of  Russia. 
True  Stories  of  Foreign  History. 


THE    NINEPENNY  SERIES    FOR   CHILDREN. 

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NEW    VOLUMES. 
Toby.     By  L.  E.  TlDDEMAN. 
He,  She,  It     By  A.  DE  V.  DAWSON. 
The    Carved    Box.      By    NORLEY 
CHESTER. 

Darby  and  Joan.    By  ETHEL  PEN- 
ROSE. 


A  Little  English  Gentleman.     By 
JANE  DEAKIN. 

The  Doctor's  Lass.    By  L.  E.  TID-   I 

DEM  AN. 

Spark  and  I.  By  ANNIE  ARMSTRONG,    j 

What  Hilda  Saw.     By   PENELOPE   j 

LESLIE. 
Little   Miss   Masterful.     By  L.  E. 

TlDDEMAN. 

A    Sprig    of    Honeysuckle.       By 

GEORGINA  M.  SQUIRE. 
An  Australian  Childhood.  By  ELLEN 

CAMPBELL. 

Kitty  Carroll.    By  L.  E.  TIDDEMAN. 

A  Joke  for  a  Picnic.     By  W.  L. 

ROOFER. 

Cross  Purposes,  and  The  Shadows. 

By  GEORGE  MAC  DONALD. 

Patty's  Ideas.    By  L.  E.  TIDDEMAN. 

Daphne.    By  E.  O'BYRNE. 

Lily  and  Rose  in  One.    By  CECILIA 

S.  LOWNDES. 

Crowded  Out.    By  M.  B.  MANWELL. 
Tom  in  a  Tangle.    By  T.  SPARROW. 


Things   will    Take    a   Turn.     By 

BEATRICE  HARRADEN. 

Max  or  Baby.    By  ISMAY  THORN. 
The  Lost  Thimble.     By  Mrs.  Mus- 

GRAVE. 

Jack-a-Dandy.    By  E.  J.  LYSAGHT. 
A  Day  of  Adventures.    By  CHAR- 
LOTTE WYATT. 

The  Golden  Plums.    By  F.  CLARE. 
The  Queen  of  Squats.    By  ISABEL 

HORNIBROOK. 

Little  Troublesome.    Do. 
Shucks.    By  EMMA  LESLIE. 
Sylvia  Brooke.    By  M.  H.  M.  CAPES. 
The  Little  Cousin.    By  A.  S.  FENN. 
In  Cloudland.    By  Mrs.  MUSGRAVE. 

Jack  and  the  Gypsies.    By  KATE 

WOOD. 

Hans  the   Painter.     By  MARY  C. 

ROWSELL. 

Sepperl  the  Drummer  Boy.    Do. 

Fisherman  Grim.    Do. 

My  Lady  May:  and  One  Other  Story. 

By  HARRIET  BOULTWOOD. 
A  Little  Hero.    By  Mrs.  MUSGRAVE. 
Prince  Jon's  Pilgrimage. 
Harold's  Ambition :  or,  A  Dream  of 

Fame.    By  JENNIE  PERRETT. 
Aboard    the     Mersey.      By    Mrs. 

GEORGE  CUPPLES. 

A  Blind  Pupil.    By  ANNIE  S.  FENN. 
Lost  and  Found.    By  Mrs,  CARL 

ROTHER. 


BLACK1E  «fr  SON'S  BOOKS  FOR   CHILDREN. 


SOMETHING    FOR   THE 

Illustrated.    64  pp.,  cloth.    6d.  each. 

Tales  Easy  and  Small. 

Old  Dick  Grey  and  Aunt  Kate's  Way. 

Maud's  Doll  and  Her  Walk. 

In  Holiday  Time. 

Whisk  and  Buzz. 


VERY    LITTLE    ONES. 
Little  Tales  for  Little  Folk. 

By  Miss  W.  L.  ROOPER.      '_></.  each. 
FRED'S  RUN. 
NORA'S  DARK  LOOK. 
ELLA'S  FALL. 
PATTY'S  WALK. 
HONEST  DOLLY. 
LITTLE  QUEEN  PET. 


THE   SIXPENNY   SERIES   FOR   CHILDREN. 

Neatly  bound  in  cloth  extra.    Each  contains  64  pages  and  an  Illustration. 

Fairy  Stories :  told  by  PENELOPE. 
A  New  Year's  Tale.  ByM.  A.  CURRIE. 
Little  Mop.    By  Mrs.  CHARLES  BRAY. 
The  Tree  Cake,  and  other  Stories. 
Nurse  Peggy,  and  Little  Dog  Trip. 
Fanny's  King.    By  DARLEY  DALE. 
Wild  Marsh  Marigolds.  ByD.  DALE. 
Kitty's  Cousin. 
Cleared  at  Last. 
Little  Dolly  Forbes. 
A  Year  with  Nellie.    By  A.  S.  FENN. 
The  Little  Brown  Bird. 
The  Maid  of  Domremy. 
Little  Eric :  a  Story  of  Honesty. 
Uncle  Ben  the  Whaler. 
The  Palace  of  Luxury. 
The  Charcoal  Burner. 
Willy  Black:  A  Story  of  Doing  Right. 
The  Horse  and  his  Ways. 
The  Shoemaker's  Present. 
Lights  to  Walk  by. 
The  Little  Merchant. 
Nieholina :  A  Story  ahout  an  Iceberg. 


NEW   VOLUMES. 

Nobody's  Pet.    By  A.  DE  V.  DAWSON. 
Daisy's  Visit  to  Uncle  Jack. 
Lady  Patience.    By  F.  S.  HOLLINGS. 
VertaandJaunette.  By  Mrs.  THORP. 

Mrs.  Holland's  Peaches. 
Marjory's  White  Rat 
Grandmother's  Forget-me-nots. 
From  over  the  Sea. 
The  Kitchen  Cat.    By  AMY  WALTON. 
The  Royal  Eagle.   By  L.  THOMPSON. 
Two  Little  Mice.    By  Mrs.  GARLICK. 
A  Little  Man  of  War. 
Lady  Daisy.   By  CAROLINE  STEWART. 
Dew.    By  H.  "  IARY  WILSON. 
Chris's  Old  .  iolin.  By  J.  LOCKHART. 
Mischievous  Jack.    By  A.  CORKRAN. 
The  Twins.    By  L.  E.  TIDDEMAN. 
Pet's  Project.  By  CORA  LANGTON. 
The  Chosen  Treat.    By  C.  WYATT. 
Little  Neighbours.    By  A.  S.  FENN. 
Jim  :  A  Story  of  Child  Life. 
Little  Curiosity.  By  J.  M.  CALLWELL. 
Sara  the  Wool-gatherer. 


A   SERIES   OF   FOURPENNY    REWARD    BOOKS. 

Each  64  pages,  18mo,  Illustrated,  in  Picture  Boards. 


A  Start  in  Life.    By  J.  LOCKHART. 
Happy  Childhood. 
Dorothy's  Clock. 
Toddy.    By  L.  E.  TIDDEMAN. 
Stories  about  my  Dolls. 
Stories  about  my  Cat  Timothy. 
Delia's  Boots.    By  W.  L.  ROOPER. 
Climbing  the  Hill.      By  ANNIE  S. 
SWAN. 

A  Year  at  Coverley.    By  Do. 
Phil  Foster.    By  J.  LOCKHART. 


Papa's  Birthday.   By  W.  L.  ROOPER. 
The  Charm  Fairy.    By  PENELOPE. 
Little  Tales  for  Little  Children. 
Brave  and  True.    By  <;RF.<:SON  <;<>\v. 
Johnnie  Tupper's  Temptation.  Do. 
Maudie  and  Bertie. 
The  Children  and  the  Water-Lily. 

By  JULIA  GODDARD. 
Poor  Tom  Olliver.     Do. 
Fritz's  Experiment. 
Lucy's  Christmas-Box. 


BLACKIE  &  SON,  LIMITED.,  LONDON,  GLASGOW,  AND 


